


Cowboys Don't Strip

by Ryvaku



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Fist Fights, Frottage, Galo is also a lovesick patron, Gueira is the lovesick office worker, Lio is the owner/top billing dancer, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Meis is the stripper, Mildly Dubious Consent, Police Brutality, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 77,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryvaku/pseuds/Ryvaku
Summary: Gueira wasn't quite sure what he was getting into when Galo invited him to Promepolis' premiere strip joint, but once he laid eyes on Dallas, he knew exactly what he wanted.The stripper AU no one asked for, but everyone kinda wanted.
Relationships: Background Lio/Galo, Gueira/Meis, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 317





	1. Introduction Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome! And big thanks to Karpe Diem for the beta'd.

Gueira doesn't remember when his life got so, mediocre. Everyday was, wake up, put on a suit, commute to his office, get through the day, go home, and do it again tomorrow. There were perks of course, his position leading the marketing department of the Foresight Company paid incredibly well, money was never an object. His family back in Miami was cared for and he could buy whatever his heart desired.

Working along side Galo was great as well. He was an idiot, but driven, and very good as Assissting Marketing Director. There never was there a dull day with him around in the office. So it shouldn't have been a surprised when Galo asked him...

“Gueira, want to go to Promare with me?”

Gueira paused from scrolling through his tablet during lunch, and gave Galo a look and carefully asked.

“Isn't Promare that super fancy strip joint on the fancy side of town.”

“Yep, that's the one, we should go tonight.”

“Didn't think you were the kind of guy that frequented strip joints Galo.” Gueira teases, watching Galo blush.

“I-I mean I'm not, but Varys, you remember him right? He volunteers at the same fire department I do. Anyway he's a bouncer there and he's friendly with the owner.”

“So?”

Without skipping a beat Galo pulls out his tablet and taps the Powerpoint document that read 'Promare a Show Stopping Spectacular.ppt' He sets the tablet in front of his friend, Gueira quietly reminds himself to just say yes, next time Galo asks for things.

The first slide has the screenshot of the Promare's logo and its invite rule.

“You have to be invited,” Gueira questions suspiciously.

“Yep!” Galo confirms. “And to do that...” He drags his finger revealing the second slide which consisted of member perks and prices “...You gotta be a member.”

The next slide shows the appointment page and a schedule for all the dancers which included heavily shadowed photographs of the dancers. Revealing enough of there face to peak interest, but not enough to identify.

The next slide had a very crudely drawn picture of Galo and Gueira standing sadly in the front of the club.

“But Varys says all we have to do is show up....” Galo continues. “...and we're in.” Another man slides into the frame, presumably Varys, gesturing them to go inside. The two doodled friends jumping up and down as slide into the club.

The next slide simply titled 'Why Guiera Should Go'. Galo taps the screen, which revealed candid shots of Gueira working in the office as text appeared over it that said 'Gueira works too much and needs to have fun!!!!!!”

Another tap of the screen has final frame of powerpoint that ends with the two of them all smiles surrounded by drinks and pleasurable company  
The larger of the two beams in pride over his presentation as the smaller pats him on the back.

“Nice job dude.” The red-haired man congratulated with a small amount patronizing behind his tone.

“Thanks, I worked real hard on it.” Galo replied in earnest, he was never good at picking up subtly.

“I can tell. Give me a minute to think”

Gueira idly scrolls through documents on his tablet, as he mulled over Galo's offer. Didn't sound bad, and it's been awhile since he's had a night on the town that didn't consist of his usual bar scene.

On top of that, his work month had been brutal as they just finished up an important project, that Kray Foresight himself, had them work a crazy amount of overtime on. The bastard. He glances over to Galo, who was leaning into his side like an excited puppy waiting on bated breath.

“Sure, why not, I got cash to burn.”

Galo whoops loud enough to turn a few heads, but not many as the office is used to it by now. He gives Gueira an enthused shake and promises him 'The time of his life' as goes off to call his friend to let them know of their arrival.

Gueirs turns back to his tablet, mulling over one of the dancers that caught his eye in the presentation.

Dallas.

Obviously a stage name as many of the dancers had the names of cities by their pictures. From what he saw, Dallas had long hair, sharp features, and a cowboy hat. Not much else he could figure from the picture, but enough for him to wonder.  
–  
The fated hour came as Galo and Gueira stood out in front of the sleek modern building. The outside had faux triangle exterior while the rest of the rectangular building peaked out from the triangle. The shimmering triangle shaped lights, trickled upward giving the structure the appearance of an erupting volcano.

Gueira gives an appreciative whistle, and wonders if the inside is as impressive as the outside.

An incredibly large man steps out the front door and flags the two down.

“Yo, Galo!” He calls out.

Galo bounds up to him all smiles and waves, as he greets the man.

“Varys, this is Gueira, my plus one.”

Gueira extends his hand, “I'm Gueira nice to meet ya.”

Varys' entire hand envelopes Gueira's, including wrist. Whilst Varys returned the greeting with a hardy firm shake the fluffy haired man made note to behave himself at this place lest he get snapped in half.

The three enter and the first room, it was rather quiet and cool, the walls held LED light that transitioned from pink, to blue, and yellow hues, against sleek black walls. The sounds were quiet, save for the faint hum of the electric light, which was strange. This was a strip club, and yet not a beat to be heard.

Three doors stood in front of them, to which Varys swipes a card he pulled from his pocket and leads through the left door. He leads the two down a dimly lit hall, its walls lined with crushed velvet, and decorated with gravure portraits of the beautiful male dancers. Gueira's heart felt like the loudest thing so far even as Varys gives them the rules as they walked. Traveling further down the hall Gueira could tell the air was getting warmer, he wasn't sure if it was his nervousness or the room actually getting warmer. The anticipation reached a peak when they finally approached the door. Varys swipes his card, and opens the door.

A sweet floral scent fills their noses, as the heavy thud of the bass bombards the senses. The two were in awe of the large lavish two-floor space before them. The decorum screamed luxury held together with themes of punk throughout the room. The bottom floor held a bar along the wall with patrons seated on the stools. Plush leather tables and chairs scattered around the room, with a few dancers performing on those tables. Then there was the large center catwalk stage filled with men whooping and whistling as the main act twisted and twirled around the pole.

Gueira sees on the second floor, people eating at tables as they stare down from above enjoying the show below.

“Alright fellas, enjoy yourselves, I gotta make it back to my post.” With that Varys leaves the two to their own devices as he heads out through the door they entered through.

The dancers performance ended and the DJ's voice boomed through the speaker seemingly breaking the hypnotized state of the two men  
.  
“Alright, Alright, gents and ladies. Give it up for Des Moines!” They cheered and whistled as the man sauntered off stage blowing kisses to the crowd. “Coming up next on the center stage in the next fifteen minutes will be a man who really needs no introduction, you love to see him naked. Promare's very own Detroit. So, wipe that sweat off your brow, pick up your jaw, and refill your wallet. Don't forget to visit the bar for a refill. This is your mad cutie DJ Lulu FX.”

The center stage crowd abandon their seats as they scatter about. Galo and Gueira take the DJ's advice and head over to the bar for a drink. As soon as the make it to the bar, the pink-haired barkeeper turns around and her eyes widened as she seemed unprepared to see a familiar face.

“Galo!?”

“Oh, it's Aina! Gueira thi—mmrphmm!” Before Galo could finish Aina launched herself across the bar and slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Keep your voice down!” She hisses loudly through clenched teeth. “I've already have enough assholes trying to ask for my name and number without you announcing it across the bar! No names while you're here, got it!?

Galo nods and Aina sighs in relief while removing her hand and lowers herself back to ground level behind the bar.

“I take it she's another one of your fire buddies.” Gueira questions

“Yep, this is...erm 'Ai-Ai'. Yeah, that works. 'Ai-Ai' this my work buddy...'G- Ra'.”

“Gueira, nice to meet ya.” The fluffy-haired man announces plainly as he moves in to shake Aina's hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Aina responds returning the handshake.

“Gueira she said no names!”

“She meant her's, idiot.”

“I honestly did not expect you to be here of all places. Never took you for a strip joint kinda guy Galo.”

“I could say the sa--.” Galo pauses for a moment, the gears of his brain were turning as suddenly all the information presented to him, lead Galo to believe one truth “Wait! You work here!? Does that mean yo--”

“Oh my god! NO!” Aina blurts out, face red as a beet, covering her chest. “I'm just a bartender! A bartender.”

Gueira cackles at the exchange between the two. Yup, never a dull moment with Galo around. Still red in the face, Aina lets out a frustrated sigh, and tries to rest her expression.

“Anyway, what can I get you guys.”

“Two beers, gotta get to the stage before those old farts get the good seats.” Gueira replies as he reaches into his pocket.

“Coming up, and don't worry about the money.” She waves off her hand, gesturing to the man to put his wallet away. “ It's your first time here so it's on the house.”

“Really!? Thanks Ain--!”

“Names!” Aina seethes.

With beers in hand the two find a spot next to the stage, just in time at that. The seating area near the stage filled up quick. The lights dimmed and Lulu FX's voice boomed over speaker.

“Lads and lasses, may I have your attention to the center stage for one of Promare's sexiest asses! The one the only...DETROIT!”

The crowd cheers and music blares as a lithe blonde man appeared from behind the curtain. He struts down the catwalk, clad in head-to-toe in leather with a white ruffled cravat peeking from behind his leather jacket. Hands gripping crisp high dollar bills all vied for his attention.

He collects their money and slowly removes his jacket revealing his ruffled blouse underneath.

Gueira whoops and cheers, along with the crowd, but soon realizes his normally vocal friend was quiet. Turning his head he sees Galo absolutely gob-smacked, cheeks tinged with red, as his grip on his beer slowly begins to loosen.

Gueira lips curled into a devilish grin as an idea formed. He reaches into Galo's pocket and pulls out a wad of his cash. All the while Galo was still hypnotized by the gorgeous dancer's form as he skillfully works the pole.

The loudest whistle from the crowd caught Detroit's attention, scanning the crowd he sees the two wild haired men. The fluffy-haired of the two was still whistling, all while waving his bigger friend's arm around. The dancer's eyes sees the amount of bills stuffed in hand and saunters over slowly unbuttoning his top.

The blouse falls to the side leaving only cravat resting on his neck.

Galo's heart thunders in his chest as the now shirtless Detroit makes his way towards him. His brow knits in confusion as he thinks for the moment that he can't be approaching him, he wasn't even offering money.

Wait, was his arm up?

He looks up startled.

It was! When did that happen?!

Why was there money?! When did he put money in his hand, and why was Gueira waving his arm?!

Those thoughts came to a screeching halt as Detroit approaches the edge of the stage. He gently plops himself down, legs spread, chin resting on his wrist with his elbow propped against a raised knee. Right in front of Galo.

Lulu's voice echoes through the room.

“Well, well, looks like Detroit wants to service---holy shit is that Ga---erm, a new patron!(?)” She catches herself in time to earn a quiet 'Nice save.' from Aina. “Lucky, lucky, Detroit loves to welcome new comers!”

Galo was red as beet, but still trying to hold on to his wavering confident expression. He gulps and gently lowers his arm. Tenderly, eyes still locked to Detroit, with shaky hands he places a pair of high bills between the belts strapped to his each of slender calves.

The dancer smirks in appreciation, and reaches for the zippers lining the inside of his pants legs. He teasingly pulls up the zippers to just above his knees, he skillfully detaches the sections of pants leg and discards them, leaving only belts strapped to his calves. He rises from his spot a turns and saunters away, he looks back a Galo and gives a wink. A promise for more to come.

Galo, slumps back in his chair, still trying to hold onto his confident face as he tries to ignore Gueira’s wild cackling.

The blonde continues to work the pole, and strolls the stage letting patrons stuff money in the belts strapped to his legs. Once he deemed the sum of monies acceptable he strips off another section of pant leg.

A few dollars, and section of pant leg was removed, revealing milky slim legs beneath.

Section after section was removed still leaving only belts and money strapped to his leg. Galo eyes tracing Detroit's path across the stage, as his leather pants had become leather booty shorts.

Detroit's gaze returns back to Galo on the far end of the stage, he again approaches the blue-haired man, who was fairing no better since earlier.

Again Detroit sits before him, legs spread apart. Galo sinks himself back into his chair, his brave face withered into a nervous one and more red than before. Detroit grabs the man by his tie, pulls him and leans forward.

“Don't leave me unfinished now.” He tells him smoothly in Galo's red ears. “Be a man. Finish the job.” He releases the grip on Galo's tie and offers his waist, lined with the side zipper of his still remaining pants.

With Gueira laughing and slapping his back in encouragement, Galo's fingers reach the zipper and slowly drags it down. Detroit offers the other hip. The blue-haired man visibly gulps, with one hand covering the bottom half of his face, futility trying to hide his reddened expression, Galo pulls down the zipper. While wriggling his hips, the dancer rises to his feet, the last of his pants lazily falling from his hips, revealing a crotchless thong underneath.

Galo casually tries to look anywhere but the stage, embarrassment still latent on his face, his leg jittery with nervous energy.

Gueira of course notices, and with an amused grin merely taps Galo, gesturing him to look back at the stage.

Tentatively Galo peaks back just in time to see Detroit wink and blow a kiss to him. Without warning Galo tries to bury himself in Gueira's hair.  
Satisfied with the reaction Detroit saunters off stage to the roar of the crowd.

“There he goes ladies and gents, Promare's very own Detroit!” Lulu's voice is once again heard over the speakers. “And now a brief intermission as we ready the stage for the lovely blue rose of Texas, and to give the new guy a chance to recover.”

“I'm fine!” He shouts indignantly, Gueira still trying to shove him off. Even with Galo invading his personal space this was already shaping up to be a great night for him. Gueira wonders if the next dancer could get Galo to lose his shit even more.

“Now making his way to the center stage, give it up for the rootin-est tootin-est most drop dead gorgeous cowboy in all of Promepolis. DALLAS!”  
Once again the music booms and crowd erupts in hoots, as the long-haired dancer strolls from the curtains dressed in a cowboy outfit; hat, rope, ass-less chaps, bandana, and all. Again the crowd offer up their fresh funds to the sultry cowboy.

This time it was Gueira's turn to be mesmerized by the sight before him. The teaser picture on the PowerPoint did not do him justice. Silky black hair cascaded down his back, obscuring half of his beautiful face. Though that was all he could see at the time as much more would be revealed in soon enough, for now, he just wanted to see more of that beautiful face.

A vest drops to the floor, and Dallas continues his sensuous display across the stage, pausing to collect cash from appreciative patrons. One-by-one the buttons of a dark shirt become undone revealing glittering creamy skin underneath, slowly but surely, the dark shirt joins the vest on the floor. He hops on a pole and continues his dance, the same pole that was near Galo and Gueira.

The fluffy-haired man expression matched a deer in headlights. He could feel his work shirt becoming far too warm, he loosens his tie, and swallows the lump that formed in throat. Eyes still locked to Dallas' form as he writhes in rhythm against the pole.

Gueira nearly loses his balance when Galo elbows him. His eyes snap into a glare at his friend, who gestures to him to start tipping the half naked cowboy. Nodding his head absently, he fumbles his hands into his pockets, and begins to pull out his cash. However, cash, coins, and an array of other things begin to spill out his pockets, clattering onto the floor.

Gueira curses as he scrounges around on the floor trying to collect the contents of his pockets, Galo on the floor helping him out. The red-head hoped no one saw that. Fortunately for him, everyone was too busy gawking at the sight before them, everyone except Dallas, who quietly snickered, as an idea settled.

His last coin was collected, he didn't notice the pair of faux crotchless jeans sailing across the stage. Gueira stands up in time to see Dallas' bare perky ass swaying rhythmically, clad in only assless chaps and crotch covered in denim. His jaw slacks when the dancer gives his ass a firm slap, rippling pert cheeks, to the delight of the crowd.

Dallas unhooks the lasso on his hip, and begins to whip around above his head. With a quick flip of his wrist, the rope flies and snags its target. Gueira.

The man feels the rope bind his arms to his sides, as he is gently reeled in towards the stage, face bewildered as he realizes he's about to be eye-to-eye with the lovely man. Once at the edge of the stage, the Dallas' kneels before his prey, tips his hat up and sweeps his obscuring hair to meet his gaze to a startled blushing man.

“Got somethin' for me darlin'?” He purrs pulling Gueira closer.

The red-head was enamored with the visage in front of him. The picture really really did not do him justice. Sharp deep-blue eyes decorated in purple eye shadow, distinct nose, glossed lips pulled into a teasing sharp toothed grin, and all perfectly arranged into a defined face framed by silken hair. Gueira would've stared at his face alone, had his eyes not moved down, meeting Dallas' nearly nude body.

A squeak slips out of the red-heads mouth that he doesn't notice, his face flushed as red as his hair, eyes wide unable to tear away from the glorious sight.

“Alright Gueira! WHOOO!!” Just like that Galo's voice snaps the man back to reality as he remembers he hasn't given Dallas what he asked for.

His arms still bound to his sides, he gingerly offers the bundle of money to the man. Dallas drops his propped knee to the stage, spreading legs a bit more open, bulging crotch clothed in denim on full display. Signaling the man to stuff the bills in the provocative clothing.

Sweaty, shaky hands tenderly stuff money along the belt around his waist, careful not brush his bulge.

“Much obliged darlin'.” The cowboy smirks and rises to his feet, and slowly undoes the ass-less chaps, letting them drop to the floor, as Dallas was down to just his black boots, denim thong, bandana, gloves, and hat. Skillfully he unravels the rope from the still blushing befuddled Gueira, and makes his way back the pole for his final maneuver.

Gueira's gaze was still locked onto Dallas as he watched the man grind and move in tandem with beat along the pole. He watched his hair move along him, with stray strands clinging to his face and neck. With a final twist and twirl around the pole, Dallas slowly removes his crotch covering, springing free his half hardened cock for view of all.  
The whoops and cheers as Dallas gives his final bow. His eyes glance over to Gueira still standing at the edge of the stage awestruck look still plastered on his face. He tips his hat with a smirk, and winks in his direction.

It was in that moment, Gueira knew he had to become a member of this club.


	2. Reintroduce to Seduce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you get the stripper that you have the hots for to notice you? Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome! And big thanks to Karpe Diem for the beta.

Weeknights and weekends at Promare soon became a regular thing for Gueira and Galo. Gueira moved from tipping the most and cheering the loudest, whenever Dallas was on stage, to sending gifts, which was something many patrons of Promare did. Although, they mostly did it to try and gain favor from the dancers, often used as an exchange for more intimate services. However, for Gueira and Galo it was purely a gesture of kindness.

The first thing Gueira gifted was a high-end salon grade shampoo and conditioner set, which was promptly sent back. He felt dejected at first, but figured maybe Dallas didn't like that brand or maybe he already had a brand that he preferred.

Next he tried to send a very expensive bottle of wine which was immediately turned away. The club had a hard line rule against food and drink as gifts. A fragrant cologne was next; followed by an eye-shadow pallet with vibrant shades of blues and purples; a pair of stylish boots he hoped they were the right size; and a really really nice studded leather jacket.

Every gift was sent back. The dejection he felt from each return soon became determination to get him to accept at least one gift, which quickly became Gueira returning to send gifts as a token of appreciation, no longer expecting Dallas to keep them.

What was even more frustrating was that Galo seemed to be in the same boat, but his gifts were getting accepted by Detroit. Well, only 3 out of the 15 that he sent got accepted. However, he got a thank you card, even with the ones Detroit sent back. This just drove Gueira up the wall.

“ Why don't you just send him flowers.” Remi asks taking a sip of his drink.

“ Cause everyone does that!” Gueira explains loudly in slight irritation, slapping his hand on the bar.

Gueira learned that Galo knew more of the staff at Promare than he thought. It seemed that most of the Burning Rescue volunteers worked there. Varys was the bouncer, Aina a bartender, Lucia the DJ, and Remi was just a regular patron who would chat with Aina and the others. Soon Gueira's friend pool expanded as he got familiar with the crew. After a few visits they got invited to hang out at the bar as the club began to wind down for the night, allowing them to converse about life and admiration of the dancers.

“ Yeah but, all your gifts keep getting sent back. Most of Dallas' admirers at this point stick to tips.” Varys adds.

“ I know, but it’s less about him accepting my gifts and more about letting him know I really like his dancing, Galo knows what I'm talking about.”

“ Yup!”

“ Uh-huh.” Remi hums sarcastically into his drink.

“ What, it's not creepy to send someone you admire gifts.” The red head bites back defensively. “ I mean at least if you know their gonna get rejected.” He pauses, taking a sip of his drink, and tentatively ask. “Am I being creepy?”

Aina responds, as she stores freshly cleaned glasses along the rack of the bar. “I mean if I had guy sending me gifts that I didn't know, then I'd be a bit wary.”

“ Same.” Lucia chimes in.

Part of Gueira wants to argue back, but he knows they bring up a good point. He knows that among the sea of gifts Dallas receives regular, nothing he's sent so far separates him from the other desperates that just want to fuck Dallas.

“ Shit.” He moans, slumped over earning a comforting pat from Galo.

–

He hadn't noticed the many times throughout the day his mind wandered to Dallas. The dancer had truly captivated him. Although he knew better, falling for stripper was a pipe dream at best, but indulging in fantasies couldn't hurt. Even as he stood in line at the coffee shop near his work Gueira found himself wishing he could see Dallas' face up close like he had on his first night at Promare. Nothing like that has happened since then, a one time occurrence that had him wishing for it to happen again.

Gueira idly scrolls through emails on his phone, listening for his name among the many being called out by baristas. Another name gets called, not his, he pays it no mind. He looks up to see if the baristas have even started on his order.

Just as he looks up, a man passes him by on his way out the door. Out of his peripherals Gueira notices a familiar glint silky hair swaying past him. He pauses for a moment trying process if what he saw was real or not. It couldn't have been.

Not satisfied with the uncertainty his legs carried him out the door to confirm his suspicions. The sidewalk outside the cafe bustled with people, he scanned the crowd quickly, hoping to catch the sight of familiar locks before they disappeared.

There! At the crosswalk, Gueira sees his back moving further away from him. He starts making his way over, weaving through what felt like a thicket of people all trying to keep him away from the man that occupied his thoughts nearly everyday.

As he gets closer, the fluffy-haired man realizes he only knows one name to address him as, but if he responds then it has to be him, right?

“ Dallas!” he calls out.

The figure slows his stride, but then continues on down the sidewalk . The pause wasn't that noticeable, but for Gueira that was enough. He picks up the pace more determined than ever to see this man's face again.

“ Dallas!” He calls out again, even louder, however this time the man doesn't pause. Growing impatient, he jogs up to the man, and cuts him off, calling out to him once more.

The man stops unable to ignore Gueira standing in his path. He looks up and Gueira is relieved to see that he was right. Standing in front of him was the lovely man that he spent almost every night gazing at on stage.

“ No.” Dallas says slowly, eyes wary of the man that stopped him. “You're in Promepolis, excuse me.” He tries to move away, but Gueira without truly thinking grabs his arm.

“ It is you.” He utters tenderly.

Dallas turns to face Gueira again, wary gaze now became a sharp glare. “Do I know you?”, he asks voice laced in a threatening tone.

His stomach dropped, as the realization of the situation at hand finally dawned on him. He wasn't sure what to do now that he had the object of his affections attention. The atmosphere was so much different. There was no blaring music, flashing lights, or roaring crowd to distract. Just him and Dallas. Now was the time, to impress and separate himself from the desperate club patrons, hopefully his next words would communicate that he was different and that there was more to him.

“ I'm Gueira, I visit the club you dance at.” Those...were not the right words. If Gueira could split himself into two and kick his own ass for that brand of stupidity he would. Instead he would have to settle for Dallas pulling his arm from the befuddled man's grip, still glaring at him.

“ I see.” Dallas begins casually, taking a sip from his to-go cup, and sighs. “You know the last stalker I had...” He pauses, and continues with a harsh tone. “...I shattered both his kneecaps.”

There was a beat of silence as Dallas let his threatening words settle, only to have Gueira respond with...

“ That's hot.”

Dallas' eye twitches in irritation, he scowls and finishes his threat with...

“ And I set his car on fire.”

“ That's even hotter.”

At this point the long haired man couldn't help to think that the other man was an idiot and was not taking him seriously, which in turn pissed him off. Meanwhile Gueira was seriously wondering if he was hanging around Galo too long, because apparently idiocy was contagious.

He snapped back to reality as Dallas grabs him harshly by the necktie, scowl deepening as he hisses out...

“ Listen, I'm not going to stop you from going to the club, but know this.” He roughly shook the man and tightened his grip. “If I find out you're following me, I'll do much worse than break your kneecaps.”

He releases his grip with a shove, ans takes another sip of his drink.

“ See ya 'round partner.” He utters with hint of teasing and venom and continues on his way, leaving Gueira slightly more love-struck with a rumpled shirt and a little aroused.

He stood there for a while and then remembered he had an order waiting for him at the coffee shop and that he needed to be at work. As he rushed to the cafe and to his office Gueira played back the recent events in his head over and over again.

He walks into the office, ignoring complaints of his fellow employees about his tardiness with their food and drink orders. He settles at his desk, his thoughts still had him in a daze. He doesn't pay attention to Galo, as he sets a fairly hefty file on his desk and starts on about the day's itinerary.

_ “ _ _ I mean if I had a guy sending me gifts without knowing me, then I'd be wary too.” _

Aina's past words echoed in his mind, solidifying a truth he didn't want to accept, but had to. He embarrassed himself in front of a guy he liked a lot, and now said guy thinks he's a creepy stalker, and worst of all, most likely hates him.

“ GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!” He screams out ruffling his hair in frustration, not caring about workplace etiquette. “I'M SUCH A DUMBASS!”

“ Oop, Gueira's finally lost it.” An employee says audibly annoyed.

“ You shut your fuckin' mouth and--” Galo's hand slaps his mouth closed before he says something that could get him fired.”

“ Aw man, Gueira, I know it’s a lot of work today, but we can get through it together.” Galo says out loud confidently albeit with an anxious tinge. “Just not here.”

Galo wheels Gueira from his desk into the nearest empty break room. The door locks and Gueira shouts out his obscenities, kicking over few chairs, until finally slamming his head unceremoniously onto a nearby table screaming. Galo all the while waits calmly for him to cool down, hoping no one is outside the door listening. Once the fluffy-haired man was quiet, Galo sits next to him and pats his shoulder.

“ Alright, talk to me, what happened?”

His face still to the table, Gueira regales him with the day's earlier events, with Galo doing his best not to cringe at the particularly ugly parts.

“ Man, you must love him a lot, huh?”

Gueira's head sprung up from the table, face red as his hair. “I don't love him! I mean, I admire him, a lot, and I just want him to know that.”

“ And you want him to notice you.”

Gueira looks away, making a low uncommitted noise.

“ Listen, dude, I get. I felt the same way when I started this job.” He smiles and looks out to the ceiling nostalgia in his voice. “I wanted you and President Foresight to acknowledge me and praise me for my work. And...” He pauses, feeling the blush creeping to his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. ”...to be honest I kinda feel the same way about Detroit. ”

“ Aw man.” Gueira huffs out a laugh. “We're a pair of dumbasses, huh?”

“ Yep, but listen...” He looks down at the table, his face serious, as he fiddles with his fingers on the table. “...as much as I want Detroit to notice me. I know that kind of thing requires the other person to want the same thing. I can hope for the best, but I have to keep my distance.”

Gueira's eyes widen at those words, as it all finally starts to click.

“ But for now!” Galo yells, standing abruptly. “I'm gonna cheer for him the loudest, tip the most, and support him by being his number one fan! You with me Guiera?”

Galo lock eyes with his friend, determination filling his face, reach out his hand to Gueira. The shorter of the two looks up at him, confident grin spreading across his face.

“ Hell yeah!” He replies and slaps Galo’s hand into a low five, with Galo pulling him up from his chair, hands locked in an unmoving hand shake. The two share a look of renewed vigor. Solidarity between two men who have the hots for two strippers who probably would never give them the time of day.

When the moment passes, Galo gently pushes Gueira back into his chair and begins to roll him back into their office.

“ Alright, now we start the day, and you have to apologize to Jamie for snapping at them like that.”

“ Yeah, yeah.”

At that moment, Gueira was really grateful to have a friend like Galo.

Of course the two return to Promare, and of course they cheer the loudest and tip as much as they can when Detroit and Dallas perform that night. Gueira pretends not to notice the glare Dallas' gives him, or the tense smile he has when Gueira hands him his tips. He knows he’s fucked up, and deserves it. He's content though, watching the divine dancer every night he can get. Supporting him with cheers, money and a gift from time to time. He'll keep being a dedicated fan until Dallas no longer graces the stages of Promare.

Although he yearns for a stronger connection with the man, he is content.

\--

Meis never saw himself doing this line of work, but honestly he could've done worse. The money was an absolute plus, although he could do without the gifts. All of them were top of the line, high quality sorts of things. However, he knew better, his admirers thought they could win him over with expensive presents. Hence why he always sent them back, not even bothering to check names on the cards. He was there to dance, help Lio, and get paid, not to be some rich asshole's plaything.

When Lio approached him about helping him with the club, he was eager to help his good friend. However, he was never one for being in charge, he preferred a more supportive role. Which worked out well, Lio delegated tasks to Meis when need be. It ranged with helping with finances, checking with food and drink vendors, disputes between dancers, and so on.

Many saw Meis as the second manager, although he was quick to dispute that since that was Thyma's title, and she did her job well. Meis was just a dancer who had more responsibilities, and was willing to be the wind at his friend's back when needed. So, it was often he stayed late at the club helping Lio and Thyma. So late in fact, that when all was done the sun would be peaking out. Meis goes to visit the cafe near his place for his usual tea that helps him unwind from the night, blueberry chamomile with lavender.

He was hesitant at first to visit the cafe again, ever since that weirdo chased him down to introduce himself. He decided to keep going to the cafe, but decided to use a different name when picking up his drink. He would see him at the cafe often, he could feel his eyes always on him, Meis made sure to not look his way. He would check his back when he left though, because if that asshole did start to stalk him, he was all ready to push him front of a moving metro bus.

It irked him a bit to still see him at the club, but he hadn't done anything to get kicked out, so he was allowed to be there. Though it would seem he wouldn't have to make good on his threat, as that weirdo seemed to have gotten the hint. He still cheered the loudest, tipped the most, and still gave him gifts, as long as he kept it at that, it was fine.

\--

It had been a little over a week since Meis had his run-in with Gueira, at that point he barely paid him any mind when he saw him at the cafe or the club, considering how busy things had gotten. He had spent the last few days helping Lio and Thyma catch up on their work, coming in early before his shift, and staying a bit later than usual. So, it was no wonder why he felt so tired standing around in the incredibly busy cafe waiting for his drink order, not even noticing Gueira nearing the front in the very lengthy line.

He's finally called for his drink, and is relieved that he can finally leave. His drink in hand, Meis makes his way towards the door, and was about to take his first long awaited sip. Then someone hurried through the door. They roughly bump into him, and the tea is spilled.

“ Fuck!” He barks out in angered frustration, shirt drenched and burning sting on his arm and hand. He glares back at the person, who didn't even offer an apology, picking up their order at the counter.

A part of him wanted to put that person in a Full Nelson until they offered to replace his drink, but he is very tired, the line is crazy long, and the baristas have their hands full. He resigns with an agitated low growl and stomps out the door.

His seething irritation was still raging when as he made his down the sidewalk, people seem to notice as they stepped aside. That was fine with him, he was tired, pissed, and wet, anybody else that tried him today was going to get it.

He pulled out his packet of cigarettes from his pocket, hoping to calm himself down, then he hears...

“ Dallas!”

He roughly pushed air through his nose, gritting his teeth, because he knows that raspy voice. He jerks around, ready to unleash his fury, only to see a coffee cup offered to him, with Gueira hunched over trying to catch his breath.

“ Blueberry...chamomile....with lavender...right?” Gueira pants out, with a small tired grin stretching his face. He sees the suspicious squint in the other man’s eyes, seemingly unwilling to take the cup. “I saw what happened, and asked them to replace it for you.”

“ How did you--”

“ They remembered your order, you're a regular there right?” He finally stands up straight, and gently offers the cup to the long-haired man.

Meis cocks an eyebrow, suspicion still gracing his features. He looks at the cup, then Gueira, and then back at the cup. After a brief contemplation, he lets out a resigned sigh, and takes the cup.

“ Thanks.” He replies flatly, still skeptical of the offer.

“ No problem.” Gueira beams proudly, not minding how ungrateful the other man sounded. He then watches Meis take out his wallet.

“ Wait, what are you--”

“ Paying for the drink.” He answers, offering Gueira a small amount of money. “This should cover it.”

“ Oh, no dude, it's fine. I used my freebie.”

Meis was about ask what he meant, until he remembers the cafe's rewards card. Show them your punch card, when you visit, and after enough visits, you get a free drink.

“ I'm not going to take money for something I didn't even pay for.” He crosses his arms, with a slight frown.

“ Fine.” He sighs out in tired defeat, and stashes his wallet away, he finishes with his lips curled in frown. “But don't go thinking a cup of tea is gonna win me over.”

“ Heh, wouldn't dream of it.” With a casual wave, Gueira turns to leave the man, heading back to the direction of the cafe. “Later.” When he's traveled far enough, the cheerful grin that he was holding back spreads across his face, pumping his fist in celebration as he mentally cheers over the successful encounter.

–

The following day Meis was once again at the cafe ordering his usual, but when it came time to pay, it never came, it wasn't until the girl at the register mentions...

“ Oh yeah! The guy with fluffy red hair paid it forward.” She pointed over to Gueira who was leaning against the wall scrolling through his phone, and as almost on cue he looks up to see Meis looking back at him, giving him a small dorky smile and a wave. “He also told me to make sure to mention that he used his freebie card.”

Meis snorts out a laugh. “Is that so?” He runs a hand through his hair.

Within minutes Meis has his tea and strolls out the door, pretending not to notice his fan's locked gaze as he makes his way out, not even sparing a glance or an appreciative gesture.

Since then, periodically when Meis would visit the cafe, and just as he's about to pull out his wallet, the cashier let's him know it's been paid for. It always prompts him to look around for the red-head, sometimes he's off in a corner ready to give Meis a wave and a smile, sometimes he's not. Whether he's there or not, made no difference to Meis. He would always take his drink and leave without a word of thanks.

While he was still suspicious of the other man's motives behind the gesture, for now he would allow the little arrangement. So far nothing Gueira did at the club or the cafe gave Meis the idea he was reading too much into Meis' reluctant acceptance of the free tea. But if somehow the man stepped out of line and got more aggressive with his advances, pushing him in front of a moving metro bus was still on the table.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end, thanks so much. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are appreciated. If you want to leave an extra kudo just go 'Kudo +1' in the comments. The next chapter is on the way.


	3. Rejection Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how do you impress the dancer you have the hots for? 
> 
> Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really push me to keep going with this.  
> Secondly, thank you for your patience, I ran into some technical difficulties, but all is well.  
> Third, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.  
> Last but not least, thank you so much to Karpe Diem for beta-ing this fic once again and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

The night has come to an end at Promare. All have left for the night save for the three pulling yet another late e in the office of the owner.

“So, have you decided on your performance, yet?” Thyma asks typing on her tablet, eyes focused.

“Not really.” Meis answers flatly, writing down notes.

“Meis.” She whines, looking at him with pleading eyes. “You're performing that night, and times running out. I gotta get things finalized with Lucia so she can get started with setting up the stage.”

“I know, I know.” He sighs and leans back in his chair arms folding against his head looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I honestly don't know what to do.”

On the final Saturday of the month, Promare puts on a different show than usual. The dancers are asked to put on a more dynamic show that is striking, fun, and erotic. Last month Lio and Meis did dual act where they were dressed head-to-toes in black armor. The two performed a choreographed erotic fight, in which each heavy blow stripped them of their armor, revealing bare flesh underneath. It received poorly with the audience. Many cited that they enjoyed the Anarchy Sisters titillating, naughty angel routine more. So this time, Thyma encouraged them to try something more subdued and simple. However, Meis wasn't sure what would work as an interesting show.

“You could sing.” Lio speaks up, eyes glued to the document on the screen of his own tablet.”

“Boss, no.”

“You can sing?” Thyma questioned in surprised.

“Yeah, Meis has an awesome singing voice.” Lio responds, resting his head against his hand, flashing a teasing grin at Meis. “He even he plays guitar. He used to be in a band you know.”

“Really!? I never knew that!”

“That was a long time ago.” Meis' face sours. His arms go limp still leaning back in his chair as unpleasant memories try and resurface.

“Not that long ago. ” Lio reminds him, making Meis' face sour even more.

“Oh, maybe you wear your cowboy outfit and do a country rock strip show.” Thyma suggests excitedly.

“Ugh, no.”

Lio starts making a gun gestures with his fingers, completely ignoring Meis' comment. “Yeah, get some six shooters and load them with--”

“No!” Thyma protests standing up suddenly and giving Lio a serious look. “No, guns! Remember? Subdued!”

Lio sucks his teeth. “You're no fun Thyma.”

“And you're too extra boss.”

“Boss. Thyma. Please just drop it, I'm not singing.” Meis says exasperatedly.

“I see. Do you have a better idea?” Lio questions, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked in an expectant look.

There was a hefty pause as Thyma and Lio waited for Meis to come up with an answer.

“Thyma, how much time does he have left?”

“Three days.”

“Shit.” Meis groans out, rubbing his hands on his face and his fingers through his hair. There was another lengthy pause which finally ended with. “Ugh, fine.”

While Meis wasn't looking at Lio he swears he could hear his smug triumphant smile.

“Thyma, you think you can get me a mechanical bull in time?” Meis asks.

“I'm sure I can come up with something.”

“Cool, I'll stick a dildo on it and--”

“Absolutely not!” Thyma exclaims scandalously.

“You're killing me Thyma.” The long haired man sighs out. “Fine, I guess I'll have to sensually ride the bull.”

“Then it's settled, a raunchy ranch show it is. Now then, Thyma how's my fire show for next month coming?” Lio asks with the same expecting look.

“As I have said before boss, we're still looking for a flame retardant liquid that won't make you look like a goo monster.” She explains wearily.

“Damnit.” Lio mutters disappointed. “Well, what about that other issue I asked you two to look into?”

“None of the dancers I have spoken to so far have noticed anyone strange in particular roaming the club.” Meis answers seriously.

“I've taken a look at the security cameras over the last two weeks, I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary worth mentioning.” Thyma replies equally as serious.

“I see, both of you keep me posted on anything suspicious around the club, no matter how small. We need to stay vigilant, especially since we know we've been put under the microscope.”

“Yes, boss.” The two answer in unison.

'Grrrr~'

The serious moment is interrupted by the growl of a stomach, Lio's in particular. The lime blonde averts his eyes as blush creeps onto his cheeks. Thyma can't help but to giggle until...

'Grrrr~'

Thyma clasps her hands on her own traitorous stomach, embarrassment apparent on her face. Meis merely sighs and shakes his head at the two.

“I figured this would happen.” The taller of the two remarks casting a knowing smirk at his two hungry friends.

Wordlessly he rises from his seat and strolls over to a cabinet in the office, which actually held a secret mini fridge. Soon Meis pulls out a bag, and hands both Lio and Thyma Tupperware container, as well as one for himself.

“Eat up.”

The two give their thanks and dig in.

The trio continue their work until the warm morning light peaked over the awakening city. Thyma and Meis say their good-byes to Lio as he heads off, Thyma is about to go on her way as well until Meis asks her...

“Hey, I know I'm asking for a little much on short notice with my show. How about I treat you to breakfast?”

Thyma agrees happily. The two saddle up on their vehicles, with Thyma following Meis on her scooter, while the long-haired man leads the way to the cafe on his dirt bike.

\--

Gueira is walking into the familiar cafe, scrolling through his phone as he confirms his fellow co-workers orders. When he makes it into the line, a familiar face catches his attention. His heart fluttered with a moment of joy, but within that moment Gueira's heart sank harshly at the sight he caught. Sitting near a window was Dallas, cheerfully talking with a woman seated across from him, a very cute one at that.

Gueira wants to tear his eyes away from the private scene across from him, but is unable to. Every second he watches the two, he can feel his heart slowly, painfully tearing. He watches the girl gaze at Dallas, her eyes smiling, her expression seemingly filled with longing. He looks over to Dallas, who leans in closer, gently smiling at the girl. The fluffy haired man doesn't notice the woman's eyes catches him staring, not until Dallas looks over his way, visibly scowling.

Gueira swiftly looks at his phone, trying to play it cool, but he knows he's as good as caught. He is still pretending to look at his phone when he hears a chair scrape across the floor. He wants to look back at the two, but doesn't want to draw the ire of Dallas again. Looking down at the black glossy screen of his phone, he sees his pitiful face staring back at him. An idea pops up. Gueira stealthily tilts the black screen of the phone, so that the reflection of its surface can allow him to spy on the two again. The screen reveals Dallas sitting adjacent to the woman, nearly obscuring her, his back facing Gueira.

He sees Dallas' shoulders shake in what could only be quiet laughter as the girl giggles as well. He continues to watch Dallas' back, seeing his hand places itself gently on her head, and ruffle her hair in a playful gesture, to which the girl responds with a pout and swiftly balls up a napkin and pelts Dallas in the head. He watches their animated conversation as the despair plummets into his heart.

Gueira didn't need to hear the scene a few feet away to know what kind of relationship they shared. He tilts his phone away from the lovey dovey couple, crumpled heart sinking to his clenching stomach.

“Next in line.”

The cashier's words snap Gueira out of his sinking despair for a moment. He makes his order and waits along the wall. He tries his best not look back at Dallas and his girl, clenching his jaw, trying to bite back unwanted feelings wreaking havoc in his chest.

Why was he upset at the fact that Dallas had a girlfriend? Of course he would have a lover, it would be a crime for him not to.

So why did he feel so damn sad when he smiled at her like that? She's cute and is probably super nice, she would be able to make him do that.

And why did it fucking matter to him anyway? He admired the dancer, yeah, but like in a way fan would admire an actor or singer. Right? So why did he have these stupid shitty feelings?

Gueira's order is finally called, snapping him out of his self induced torment. He grabs the food and drinks, doing his best to resist the urge to get one more glance at the pair, but gives in. Gueira looks over to the girl again talking happily to Dallas, her face glowing with a tender expression. Gueira feels the familiar crushing of his heart and practically races out the door to his ATV waiting on the street nearby, not noticing the girl watching him leave.

“Hey, did you know that guy staring at us.” Thyma asks.

“Not really.”

“Really? It seemed like he knew you...” She says trying to peer back at the man.

As Gueira rode to work, he tries his best to push down his feelings. He ran on auto-pilot, his thoughts distracted him from the road.

“ _I should be happy that Dallas had someone to love.”_ He berates himself, ignoring a 'yield' sign.

BEEP BEEP!

“I HAVE THE RIGHT AWAY ASSHOLE!”

“ _I didn't have a chance anyway. Wait, why does that even matter?”_ He thinks, as slows down a bit too much.

HONK HONK!

“GO AROUND SHITHEAD!”

“ _He's hot, no doubt, but I like him for his dancing its not like I..”_

HOOOONK!!

“FUCK OFF! WHY IS EVERYONE A SHIT DRIVER TODAY!?”

He hadn't noticed himself veering too close into the neighboring lane.

His emotions had not once receded as he made it to his office and sat at his desk, Frustration melted into a sense of heavy emptiness, as Galo's words popped into his head.

_The other person has to want it._

With elbows resting on his desk, his head in his palms as fingers harshly clenched around his red hair. Gueira's anger flared again. Angry at himself thinking that a looker like Dallas didn't have someone waiting for him back at home. Anger of him idiotically thinking that Dallas might even want the same thing he wanted. And what actually did he want? A connection, right? But what kind exactly?

A fat stack of files plopped next to him, pulling him from his thoughts, courtesy of Galo.

“Mornin'! We've got a lot of work ahead of us today! But I know our burning souls can blaze through this together!”

Gueira slams his head on desk with a pained groan. It wasn't even noon, and yet he already felt burned out.

–

The roaring beats echoed through Promare as Dallas once again commanded the audience, as the crowd cheered and waved their crisp bills. However, one fan decided to hang back. Gueira opted to view Dallas away from the center stage. His back leaned against bar slumped in his seat, arm resting on bar, clutching his drink as it rested on his knee.

Gueira watched from afar as Dallas twirled gracefully on the pole after discarding his shirt, his head still heavy with lingering feelings from earlier. After what he saw that morning, he couldn't help but wonder why he even bothered coming tonight. He did wrestle with the idea of not coming to the club at all, but ultimately rationed that there was more to the club than the dancers. Although at this point, he feels like it was more of a compulsion that brought him to Promare tonight.

“Huh, it's odd to see you here when Dallas is on stage.” Aina's comment startled him out of his gaze at the main stage.

“Oh, um, you know, can't spend money here all the time. I gotta make rent.” He replies, turning his head to speak with the pink-haired bartender while rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Then why come here, if you weren't gonna throw your money at the dancers?” She questions, unconvinced at the man's statement.

“There's more to this place than strippers.”

Aina merely cocks her eyebrow at the questionable statement while throwing Gueira a look.

“What!? It's true.” He retorts defensively, swiveling his seat to face Aina as he gestured to the different areas around the club. “There's the bar, and the music, and a whole restaurant upstairs.”

Aina's face remains unchanging until she decides to return to wiping down the bar. “Whatever you say, guy.”

“It's the truth!” He defends, and downs the rest of his drink aggressively. Gueira's attention shifts back to Dallas who now had even less clothing, his hips gyrating to the beat.

“Hey, Ai-Ai, do know anything about him?”

“Sorry, I'm not at liberty to disclose information about our dancers.” She replies in a taunting tone, earning an irritated grunt from Gueira, “Besides, I don't know much about him anyway, aside from that he's friends with Boss. Outside of that, the guy is a mystery to me. He really kind of keeps to himself.”

He lets Aina's comment linger for a while, as Gueira recalls Dallas not ever entering the cafe with anyone else, at least until this morning.

“Besides,” Aina continues “I would have told you if you didn't have a chance with him by now.”

Gueira sputters as he swiftly pivots his seat to face Aina. “W-what makes you think I want a chance with him.”

“Come on, it obvious you're crushing hard on him.” She replies with a smirk leaning onto the bar.

“I am not!”

“Relax,” She waved her hand dismissively. “Everyone here has a crush on at least one of the dancers, Remi does, and even Galo.”

Gueira snorts, doing his best to not appear embarrassed, although the blush creeping across his face seemed to do the opposite. “And what if I did?”

“If you're crushing, you're crushing. Just keeping your feelings in check and don't expect too much.”

Gueira snorts again. That was easier said than done. The worst thing about feelings was how easy it was for them to get ahead of rational thought, and Gueira was definitely one of the passionate sort. He was a hothead by nature, and was more emotional than he cared to admit, so trying to keep feelings in check was going to be an uphill battle.

He swivels the stool, once again facing the main stage in time to catch Dallas displaying how flexible he could be around the pole. The music swells as Dallas readies himself for his final maneuver.

Gueira heaves a sigh and hops off the bar stool, making his way towards the center stage, hands fishing through his pockets for cash. Part of him knew that if he left the club that night without tipping his favorite dancer he would feel guilty about it tomorrow, although the other part of him wondered what the point is it wasn't going to get him closer to the man he has budding feelings for. He ignored that thought, Dallas didn't deserve to not be tipped just because Gueira was dealing with conflicting emotions.

Gueira shoves his way through the desperate, sweaty, clamoring patrons until he makes it near the stage, he whistles loud enough to be heard among the whooping guests and blaring music as Dallas turns his head to see Gueira waving a nice amount of bills. The dancer saunters and with a seductive grin, and plucks the money from the man's hands, gracefully tucking it under his hat.

Bending over, with a tantalizing roll of the hips, Dallas slowly begins to peel of the last piece of clothing. Bit by bit, Dallas pulls down the thong, ass swaying to the beat, effectively mooning the crowd much to their delight. Gueira's mouth hangs open as he watches it all unfold before him, stunned by the beautiful dancer. The thong drops to the floor and Dallas snaps back up elegantly, smooth silky tresses flowing with his motions, his half-hardened cock bobbing freely. The red-head gulps, his skin begins to prick with heat and sweat, as his eyes lock on to with the flushed member, he feels his own stir with interest.

“Ladies and gents, give it up for the wanton wrangler! Promare's one and only Dallas! Yeehaw!” Lulu FX's voice blares throughout the club.

The music winds down and Dallas strolls off the stage, waving and blowing kisses to the patrons. Gueira's lingering thought as he watches the dancer disappear behind the stage is...

“ _That girl of his is so damn lucky.”_

\---

That night Gueira dreams of Dallas.

He's on his knees, with Dallas' cock stuffed in his mouth. He looks up to see Dallas, his black cowboy hat tilted down nearly obscuring his face saving for those piercing blue eyes looking down at him. His face was flushed, mouth cut into a devilish grin, and his shirt parted open revealing glistening pale skin.

A fresh wave of arousal jolts through Gueira at the sight, and another when he feels Dallas bucking into his mouth.

“Your mouth feels so good.” The cowboy clad man purrs above him. “So good for me, Gueira.”

The fluffy-haired man shudders in delight at the praise, and works his tongue around the throbbing cock with renewed vigor, wanting to hear more sweet nothings from Dallas again.

He feels a strong stinging in his scalp, as Dallas grips his hair and roughly yanks Gueira off his dick. Dallas' eyes roam over Gueira’s naked form, his grip tightened around the fluffy locks, earning a stifled groan from the man.

“Look at you.” Dallas teases in a low voice, leaning over to get a closer look at the man, hand never once loosening its grip. “All worked up just from sucking my cock.”

Gueira was vaguely aware of how he must look, face reddened, eyes glazed over with tears pricking the corners, mouth parted as drool spilled from swollen lips, and his chest heaving shamelessly. He stiffens when he feels the toe of the long-haired man’s boot gently stroking his hardened cock.

“You even made a little puddle.” He points out the pre-cum that gathered from Gueira's drooling cock. “Think you can come from this, hmmm? Those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.” Meis’ free hand strokes his face, the leather glove gently thumbing his bottom lip.

Without letting Gueira answer, he pushes the man's mouth back on his dick, leaning back with a groan, enjoying the fervent slippery heat around his cock again.

The tanned man moans around Dallas' cock, as he feels the boot pressing into his own dick, his hips rocking into the pressure. The soft groans and sweet praises he hears above him only serve to build the mounting pressure in his dick.

“Don't stop, your mouth feels like heaven.” Dallas hums, his hips bucking deeper into Gueira's wanting mouth.

He feels Dallas' cock reach the back of his throat, but doesn't gag, instead he swallows around it, enjoy the sensation stretching him. Dallas' hips begin to pick up speed, and Gueira gratefully hums around the cock battering his throat oh so pleasantly.

The dark haired man pulls Gueira off his cock again, a thin trail of saliva mixed with pre-cum stretches, still connecting the two. Dallas uses his free hand to stroke himself to completion.

“Be good and catch it with your mouth, darlin'.”

The fluffy haired man immediately opens his mouth with his tongue laid out to catch Dallas' seed. With a shuddering moan, the cowboy spills himself all over the man below him.

“Good boy, Gueira.” He hisses, deep satisfaction still latent in his voice.

The sweet praise in his ears, the boot firmly pressed against his hot dick, and the feeling of warm, yet surprisingly tasteless, cum splattering on his flushed face and chest. His orgasm to rippled through him like a wave. Both men were left to enjoy the gentle aftershocks of their orgasms, Gueira is vaguely aware of the heavy pants that fill the room..

The tanned man feels a gloved hand cupping his face, his glazed red eyes locked with Dallas' blue ones.

“You look so pretty like this.” He utters sweetly with a grin, leans in close to Gueira's face, hair's breath away from his lips.

Pale lips press into cum stained ones, as Gueira eyes flutter closed, moaning deeply into the kiss, his heart soaring.

“Babe...” A soft delicate voice cuts through the intimate moment.

Gueira turns the source of the voice, and a heavy unease settles in his stomach as he sees Dallas' girlfriend standing behind him.

She gasps at the sight before her, green eyes widened, her hands drawn into her chest. “How could you...?” Her voice cracked into a pitiful squeak, as tears spilled over her cheeks.

Gueira's shame and disgust sets deeply within him, eyes unable to look away at the woman's face scrunched in sorrow. He tries to call out to her, an apology, an explanation, an excuse, anything to ease his guilt, but no words come out. He just sits there, between Dallas' legs, cum staining his face, as he watches this woman sob her eyes out at her lover's betrayal.

–

Gueira awakens with a jolt, he sits up, grogginess loosening its hold on his body. He rubs his face, trying to remember why he had this mixed sense of satisfaction and shame after waking up. His mind flashes back to the dream, and his shame seem to strengthen in his gut. He sighs heavily, his hands still rubbing his face, as he tells himself that the dream didn't mean anything, no need to think too much about it. Mildly content with his rationing, he becomes aware of the cool layer of sweat on his skin, and wetness staining his underwear and sheets.

“Damnit.” He muttered irritably, and begins to drag himself out of bed. He makes his way to the shower, discarding his soiled sheets into a pile laundry he had yet to attend to. A fine way to start his day off.

\--

The sun burned brightly high in the sky, gently warming the cool air, as clouds moved across azure skies. It wasn't quite noon yet, so the day still had potential left. Gueira decides to make his way to the cafe he usually visits. He heads in after parking his ATV. As soon as he enters, he sees her, Dallas' girlfriend, discarding her trash in the waste bin. As she approaches the door, a sense of dread washes over him, her crying face suddenly resurfaces in his mind.

“Excuse me.” She says politely, attempting to pass him, seemingly not recognizing.

Gueira felt his breath hold in his chest as he lets her pass. He watches her make her way out to her scooter parked next to his ATV. His held breathe quickly escapes him as he relaxes. In line, chiding himself for being nervous for no reason.

From the line, he looks out to see the young woman, attempting to turn the key of her scooter. She turns it again, and again, and again. However, no matter how many attempts she makes, the scooter refuses to come to life. She leans into the dash staring at it for a minute, and then slowly rests her head in her palms. She sits there for a while, utterly defeated.

Without hesitation Gueira steps out of the line and approaches the poofy haired woman.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks.

She lifts her head to face him. “I'm fine, but my bike...”

“Giving you trouble?”

“Kinda, I, erm...forgot to charge it.” She admits in a small voice.

There's a short silence, which is broken by Gueira.

“Pfft!”

“Don't laugh!” She exclaims clearly embarrassed by her carelessness. “I work nights, okay and I'm tired by the time we're done. And we've been busy with--!”

“Alright, alright.” Gueira interrupts nonchalantly, as he raises his hands defensively. “I get it. I'm kinda a dumbass too, 'm always forgettin' and losin' shit. I'd probably walk off without my ass if wasn't attached to me.”

That gets a laugh out of her, and that in turn gets him grinning.

“Tell you what lady, my bike's gotta hitch on it. I'll you hooked on and get you to a gas station with a charge station. How 'bout it?”

There's a pause as the girl's eyes squint at Gueira suspiciously, crossing her arms. “Okay, but what's the catch?”

Gueira's grin falls flat, as he rolls his eyes with a sigh. “No catch, just a guy trying to do something nice for a girl having bike troubles.”

_'And as an apology for ogling your boyfriend and dreaming about blowing him.'_

She doesn't unfold her arms, her face is unchanging. “Fine, but if you try anything, I'm tasering you.” She warns.

“Heh, fair enough. Name's Gueira by the way.”

“Thyma, and thanks for helping me.”

Within a few moments, the girl's scooter is hooked to the ATV and the two take off.

Some time later they arrive at the station, Gueira hops off and starts unhitching Thyma's scooter.

“Thank you again for helping me.” She says, still perched on the seat of the ATV.

“ 'S fine, I had nothing to do today.”

“I'm sorry for threatening to tase you.” She apologizes, her eyes trained to the ground as she grips her fingers. “Guys can get...pushy.”

“Don't I know it.” He utters quietly. Once the scooter is on the ground, he removes the hook, and starts to reel in the cable. “Alright, that should be it, You got from here, yeah?”

“Yeah, charging it shouldn't take too long.”

Gueira finishes with the cable and settles himself back on his ATV.

“Wait, before you go, does the name Meis sound familiar to you?”

“Meis?” He contemplates the name for a bit. “Nah.”

“What about Lio?”

“Nope.”

“...Reus?” She asks carefully, her expression more serious this time.

“Never heard of 'em. Uhm, should I know these people?”

Thyma shakes her head a little frantically. “No, sorry about that. It's just that, I saw you the other day at the cafe, and thought you may have known me through them.”

Gueira bristles a bit at that, remembering that day. His eyes trail off to the side as he quickly slides on his helmet, attempting to hide his guilt.

“Sorry, today's my first time seeing you Thyma.” He lies. “If you're good , then I'll head out, see ya 'round.”

Quickly he revs up and speeds off. As he makes his way down the road, he thinks about the names Thyma asked him about. He has ran around some crazy characters back in the day, but none of those names were familiar to him. Maybe he did know them and forgot, he thinks vaguely.

BEEP! BEEP!

“ASSHOLE!!!” He screeches at the car he veered a little too close, flipping them off as he speeds down the road.

He mind trails back to Thyma, and those troubled feelings begin to stir again. After seeing her closeup, she was a total cutie, there was no competing against that much cute. Not like he wanted to, he was a lot of things, but a cheater ain't one of them, at least outside of the dream-scape.

Vaguely he thinks that maybe he shouldn't visit Promare so often, or maybe that he should stop going altogether. He ponders that as he cuts off someone.

HONK HONK!!

“FUCK YOU!!”

–

Saturday night arrives, and per usual the house is packed. Meis peeked out from the stage and sees the club filled with patrons on the floor above and below, happily treating themselves to expensive meals and drinks, as well as all the pleasurable company. Many of the dancers have already performed some impressive shows for the night already, and the crowd is eating it up. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel his stomach churning in a mix of anxiousness and excitement, as the clock ticked down until it was time for his act.

The uneasiness he felt came from the fact he had not sang in front of a crowd since his days in a band. He was worried he may be rusty. Of course he practiced and rehearsed as much as he could in the three days he had. Though he was against the idea at first, with each rehearsal he found himself looking more forward to singing on stage again.

He made sure that every note was played and sang just right, making sure every detail in his performance was perfected to his liking. He was so proud of his work and was eager to get one run through on stage before the club opened for the night, just to show off for his friends.

Both Lio and Thyma gave their glowing praises, Thyma in particular being most impressed as she's never heard Meis sing before.

“ _Meis you sounded so awesome! Your voice is amazing!”, Thyma cheers, as her's and Lio's applause echoed throughout the empty showroom._

“ _I agree, it's nice to hear you sing again after so long.”_

_He huffs out a laugh and dramatically bows for his sparse audience._

_He would hardly admit out loud, but hearing those praises from them meant a lot to him._

Lucia's voice blasts across the stage, pulling Meis back to the reality before him.

“And now ladies and gents, Promare continues its Sizziling Saturday Spectacular (title pending) with one of our raunchiest ranch-hand Dallas!”

The lights dim and the music turned down as only the soft murmurs of the crowd is heard. Meis breathes deeply and walks onto the stage, heels of his boots clacking as he strums the opening chord on his black acoustic guitar.

His deep silky voice gently reverberates through the club. The guitar's sound harmonizing in tandem with it's musician. The gentle country voice Meis starts with soon shifts to more melodic. The guitars chords matching in the transition from country rock to rock. He looks out over the audience, some faces feign a vague interest, others are blank as if unsure what to make of this performance. Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, but he brushes it off for now, this is just the first part of the act so far.

He continues on until he hears a...

“Boooo!”

Ah, a heckler. He hasn't heard one of those in a while. It doesn't stop him though, the show must go on, even if someone is being an asshole. Eventually, Varys or another bouncer will show up and haul the guy off.

“What is this crap!”

The same guy, but now Meis is aware that he sounds very, very drunk. Still, he does not stop singing. It's fine, even if none of the bouncers show up Meis has an idea of how reel the guy in, and once he moves into the second phase of his performance, that guy will shut up. It'll be fine.

“I came ta see ya get naked, not hear ya sing yer shit song!”

“Fuckin' shut up asshole!”

That voice. When he searches the crowd he sees the familiar, wild, red, fluffy hair along with his equally wild haired friend. Gueira and Galo were glaring angrily at the drunken heckler, who was looking everywhere to see who had said that, not noticing Gueira a mere 10 ft away from him.

Meis never once stopped singing, but bumped up his volume just to drown out the drunkard and to reign the crowd's eyes back on him.

The heckler doesn't stop, and just gets louder. Both Gueira and Galo try their best to cheer louder than the heckler can jeer. However, this just mixes into an irritating amount clashing sounds, of which was distracting the crowd and pissing off Meis, as telling from his more aggressive singing voice. The plan he had in mind was going to work if these idiots wouldn't shut up.

Without warning the intoxicated patron takes his nearly finished wine bottle and hurls it at the center stage. Meis reacts quickly, with the neck of the guitar in his grasp, he raises up the instrument in time to block the bottle. He jerks slightly at the force of the bottle impacting the body of the guitar. The sound of splintering wood and breaking glass is heard with an audible 'CRUNCH'.

In an instant, the once pristine polished black guitar now sports a large hole in its body, along with the broken bottle settled in its frame, the neck broken making the instrument dangle limply from Meis' hand.

“You piece a shit!” Gueira roars, charging over and slugging the man in the face.

The inebriated man fights back with a punch, it lands, but it barely registers to Gueira who counters with another punch, and another, and another.

“Yeah Gueira! Kick his ass!” Galo cheers from the sidelines.

Before anyone could wonder where the hell was security, Varys barrels in and pulls Gueira off of the drunken man, tucks them both under his arms, and starts to hurry towards the exit. Galo tails behind him vocally trying to plead with the bouncer, all the while Gueira is furiously trying to get free.

“Fuckin' put me down! That asshole 's the one who started it!” Was the last thing heard from Gueira as he and the other man were carried out, Galo right behind him, while Meis and the crowd watched.

An uncomfortable silence spreads with the crowd murmuring to themselves, as Meis stands on stage, stunned at what just unfolded. His show was pretty much ruined at this point. There's a part of him that wants to just storm off stage and call it a night, but he shoves this feeling aside and wearily sighs. The show must go on.

He chucks his broken guitar aside and starts gesturing wildly to Lucia from the stage, who surprisingly understood what he was trying to say. She gives a thumbs up from the booth and the music begins to swell around the club once again. He whistles to the crowd to regain their attention. Once distracted eyes return to the stage as Meis begins to slowly peel off his vest. Soon the show is resumed, as piece by piece the dancer removes his ranch-hand outfit.

He grinds and twirls around the pole with his usual grace. The crowd is eager to tip as money is slipped between thong and garter. The music builds to a crescendo, steam pours from the stage and from the center a mechanical bull rises from underneath.

The dancer straddles the bull, which hums to life with a 'moo' as steam releases from its nostrils in short bursts. The machine begins to jerk and buck rhythmically to music, Meis seductively bouncing in tune with the mechanized steer. The people below whoop and cheer, many nearly salivating at the suggestive visual as they watch him run his hand along his pale frame, moaning loudly.

The show reaches its climax as Meis exaggeratedly simulates his own, his head thrown back, moaning obscenely as more steam streams from the bull's nose. He reclines against the bull's back, his chest heaving, attempting to look as if he were still in orgasmic bliss. The machine begins to slowly sinks into the floor, the dancer gently waving his fingers to the crowd as he disappears into the stage.

–

Saturday night at Promare comes to a close. Meis walks through the halls, ready to head out and still in a sour mood. While he managed to salvage his show, the damage had been done, as shown through his less than stellar tips and one wrecked guitar. Although the biggest disappointment came from having to cut the rest of his song from the performance, something he was really looking forward to. He definitely would have left earlier had he not had other business to take care of within the club.

While that drunk asshole was completely at fault, he did blame Gueira for making the situation worse. Although, he did beat up the guy after he launched that bottle at him. However snooty rich people don't really like the idea of brawls breaking out in their luxury strip joint, hence the bad tips. He wasn't sure how to feel about all of it and was not in the mood for mental gymnastics. But when all was said and done, he really could use a drink right about now.

Approaching the bar he grimaces as he looks to see Thyma chatting with the last two people he wants to see right now, along with Aina at the bar.

“Just don't do it again.” Thyma gently scolds. “I can't guarantee that I can get Boss to be lenient a second time.”

“Yeah I get it. Thanks Thyma.” Gueira acknowledged with a grin. “Guess we're even now, huh?”

“Yeah, we are. Anyway don't get into any more trouble, my manager status only gets me so far.” Thyma turns to leave, but stops short when she sees Meis. “Dallas. I saw what happened earlier. We made sure that the man who threw the bottle has been banned.”

“And him?” Meis gestures over to Gueira with his chin.

“I vouched for him and let him back in.” She replies with a smile, glancing back over to the red head. “I don't think he was in the wrong, especially since you or Boss would've done the same thing.”

Meis looks at Thyma flatly, unable to dispute that fact. His gaze settles back over to the fluffy haired man, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“And you're okay?” She asks quietly, eyes saddened with worry.

“I've had worse shows.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but that answer isn't enough for the poofy-haired girl as she still looks worried. He sighs and pats her head with a grin. “I'm fine Thyma, don't worry.”

“That's good to hear.” She sighs relieved. “Anyway I have to get going. You guys don't stay too late. See ya.”

With that Thyma takes her leave.

The groups turn their attention on Meis, who now sees Guiera's face slightly swollen with a few bruises. Although he's not sure, Meis swore he looked sullen for a moment just now.

“Hey Dallas!” Galo chimes in. “Sorry about what happened with your show.” He apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

“Don't remind me.” Meis says tightly.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Let me buy you a drink, yeah?” Gueira offers with a grin.

Meis hesitates for a minute, but sighs and settles next to him at the bar, he really wanted that drink more being next to Gueira.

“Ai-ai get the man whatever he wants.” Gueira calls out slapping the bar.

“You know what I like Ai.” Meis says coolly, trying to hide his annoyance.

“I actually don't, but I'll figure it out.” She retorts and starts on his drink.

There's a beat of silence as Gueira sips on his drink, glancing over at Meis, unsure of what to say. He feels Galo nudging him, he ignores it, but Galo is persistent and doesn't stop until his tanned friend shoots him a glare. He looks over to see Galo mouth 'Say something.'

That's easier said than done, but Guiera goes for broke.

“So, even though I couldn't hear too much of it, I really like your singing. You sounded amazing.”

“Is that so?” Meis muses flatly, but secretly deeply flattered.

“Yeah, wish I coulda heard more, but I got hauled out after I saved the show, so...”

In just a short sentence Meis went from deeply flattered to incredibly pissed.

Saved? Is that what this idiot called it? After that entire shit show? He really calls that saving?

“My hero.” Meis utters sarcastically. Aina sets his drink in front of him, and Meis downs it in one gulp, not even bothering to taste it. “He caused a scene. Made an angry drunk asshole even angrier, which made him chuck a bottle at me, but the hero manages to take down the villain despite his twiggy arms.”

“Twiggy!?” Gueira snarled.

“Kicking some drunk guy's ass ain't that much of a feat, but seeing how scrawny you are, that must have really made your night.”

“Who are you callin' scrawny?!” Gueira rages standing up from his seat glowering angrily at Meis.

“You're right. I'm being harsh. I should be thanking you. You saved my show after all.” He smirked, his tone even, bereft of any bite that it had earlier.

He stands up and vaults over the bar with grace, surprising Aina. “Allow me to properly thank you two with a drink I made up myself.”

After gathering several drinks and mixing them together, he pours both men a small glass and presents it to them. “Enjoy gentlemen, my thanks to you.”

Both men eye their drinks apprehensively, knowing that they haven't been poisoned, but feeling the hostility behind the gesture. Gueira settles back down in his seat, and looks over to Galo. The two share a nod, and carefully pick up their drinks. The two take a big gulp, and immediately gag. They cough and sputter, Galo even goes as far as licking his sleeve to alleviate the horrible, horrible taste in his mouth.

“What the fuck is this?!” The red head coughs, vile drink spilling from the corners of his mouth.

Meis vaults from behind the bar and starts making his way out, not once looking back at the bar. “I call that drink 'The Asshole' boys, a fitting drink for my hero.”

“You fuckin' dick!” Gueira screams out still gagging.

As far as Gueira was concerned the biggest asshole in the room wasn't the drink, but the man that made it. Despite knowing that, the budding feelings he harbored for Dallas had not wavered.

  
  



	4. Seduce to Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you botch a crush? Like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really push me to keep going with this.  
> Secondly, thank you for your patience, it shall be rewarded with this fat update  
> Third, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.  
> Last but not least, thank you so much to Karpe Diem for beta-ing this fic once again and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!
> 
> I also self beta'd the latter half of this chapter so...onward.

“ So then I figured, if I hook the meat to the hitch on Miami, then I could fish the scaly bastard out of the pool and not risk gettin' my ass eaten.” Gueira says as his hands motion to reel in a fish. The night at Promare has come to an end, as he regales Galo and the Burning Rescue/Promare staff at the bar of his illicit gator removal days.

“ I mean you bought it dinner, might as well let it eat your ass.” Meis chimes in sarcastically, his chin resting in his hand while lazily sipping his drink.

“ Shut it.” Gueira bites back annoyed.

“ Although I do admit I am surprised. That's a pretty clever idea, for you at least, maybe there is a functioning brain underneath that mop of yours.” The long haired man jeers coolly, finger gesturing towards the wild plume of red hair.

Gueira stands up swiftly from his seat, his face pulled into a snarl. “You fuckin'--!”

“ That's enough!” Aina warns, hands on her hips as she stares down the two men. “Dallas! Either play nice or leave.”

“ Alright, alright I'll let Florida Man over here finish his story.”

It started out with Meis purposely irritating Gueira as pay-back at him for angering that drunken asshole and ruining his show, but now it was just for fun. Almost nightly since then, as the club started winding down and most of the patrons were gone, Meis would saddle up at the bar just to rag on Gueira. He would even casually flip off Gueira at the cafe when he saw him, which prompted Gueira to return the gesture, and revoke his free tea, sometimes. It was just too easy, and it never took much to rile up the red-head.

A stinging comment here, a sharp remark there, and Gueira was huffing and puffing ready for a fight. Sometimes he didn't have to say anything at all. A scoff, or well placed uncommitted noise in just the right tone provided the same reaction. All the while Meis would keep a cool head, which just angered the Gueira even more, providing almost endless amusement.

He never took it too far with his jabs, although what counted as such was debatable, and Meis was not that interested in sparing Gueira's feelings. He's definitely cut it close though, as Gueira was not one for taking shit.

Meis, on more than one occasion, had been on the receiving end of the red-head spitting back foul words, and having his hands raised to fight. Of course, in the face of the angry man threatening to kick his ass, Meis' expression remained neutral, uncaring even. Like a venomous snake ready to strike the raging dog. Meis was always poised to come to blows with Gueira if need be, but it never came to that. It was always Galo holding back his friend or Aina putting her foot down. Usually when that happened, Meis had his fill of fun for the night and left, or decided to be good and sit quietly listening to the mix conversations at the bar until closing.

To Meis' surprise Gueira was actually kind of interesting.

Meis expected Gueira to hold the usual conversations that were par the course of the clientele of Promare. Talks of promotions, summer homes in Boca Raton, vacation on yachts, money in stocks, and whatever mind numbing drivel he came to know from his patrons in private dance booths.

The contrary was a welcomed change of pace. Meis quietly listened to Gueira's gator wrangling tales, his stories of drag racing Miami in the deserts outside the city limits of Promepolis, or his days leading the Mad Burnish back in his hometown. On those nights Meis would hold off on his biting commentary. He could be seen at the bar, his expression in its usual state of unreadable whilst sipping from his drink. To Gueira and the others he seemed wholly uninterested, but that could not be further from the truth.

Tonight was no different.

“ So then I duct taped the bastard to the flatbed trailer...”

“ Wait are you for real!?” Remi and Lucia shout in unison.

“ Seriously?” Aina questioned in surprise.

“ What the hell man?!” Varys exclaims.

“ What!? I had to secure the gator.”

Meis casually sips from his drink, drowning the chuckle that threatened to bubble up from his throat, not wanting to further irritate Gueira or have him thinking he was enjoying his story. Meis kept his emotions like playing cards in poker, guarded close to his heart with his face bereft of any emotion.

–

Over a small amount of time Meis' taunting became less and less. He would still make a remark to rile Gueira up from time to time, but less frequently than usual. However, the red head still wouldn't take those comments lying down if he had anything to say about it. Tonight was one of those nights.

“ Alright asshole! You think my arms are twiggy then I'll show you!” Gueira props his elbow on the bar. “Arm wrestle! You and me, let's go!”

“ Pft, you bein' serious right now?” Meis smirked, clearly amused by the challenge he was being presented.

“ Dead serious.” Gueira's arm still remain unmoved, as he stared down the long haired man waiting for his challenge to be met.

“ Not happening.” Meis replies flatly, as he sips from his drink. “Besides I'd just snap those arms of yours.”

“ Then put up or shut up!”

Meis lets out an exasperated sigh, not seeing much of way out of this, at least not with his pride intact.

“ Fine, but not at the bar. We'll do it on those tables.” Meis points over to the empty tables away from the bar.

“ Alright guys place your bets! I got $40 on Dallas!” Lucia calls out her phone in hand, as she, Varys, Remi, Aina, and Galo all follow the two men over to the table.

“ I'm putting my money on Gueira, dude's small, but he's pretty strong. He almost got free when I threw him out.” Varys comments.

“ Mine's on Dallas, guy swings around on a pole almost every night. That takes a lot of upper body strength.” Remi explains.

“ Kick his ass Gueira!” Galo cheers.

“ Scared you gonna lose?” Gueira taunts, his elbow propped on the table.

Meis merely sneers and props his own elbow upon the table, fiercely gripping the other man's hand in his own. Varys gently cups the pair's hands.

“ Best of 3 guys.” Vary explains as the two men stare each other down. “3. 2. 1. Go!”

When Vary releases their hands the struggle began. While the groups cheered, Meis and Gueira's arms trembled in effort, both putting their strength into pinning the other's arm. To Meis's surprise Gueira was actually pretty strong, and he was having trouble getting the upper hand. Meis wasn't going to relent just yet, he pushes back with a strained grunt. But then Gueira counters, and makes for a big push, and with a solid thud, pins Meis arm.

Cheers and groans are mixed within the small group. Meis' eyes widen in a split second of shock at his loss, but then narrow in anger. His gaze locked to Gueira, who held a triumphant cocky grin on his lips.

Meis rolls his shoulder and wordlessly props his elbow back onto the table, face set in a vehement glare of determination, flames of pride and competition roaring, ready to burn. Gueira sees the fierce fire that burns behind those blue eyes, and he has to quickly push away the sense of awe he feels, as he locked hands with Meis once more. Varys cups their hands again and counts down.

On the word 'Go' Meis swiftly slams Gueira's hand to the table with a resounding thud. No cheers nor groans were heard, the group was stunned into silence at such a quick and effortless pin. Gueira's surprised face met with Meis' confident grin, his hand still holding Gueira's. The red-haired man's expression snapped into a ferocious grin of his own, fire within him burned to win.

The two clasp their hands together for the final round. On Varys' signal Meis makes an effort to end the match quickly once again, but is stopped short. Gueira's hand is a good inch away from the table, his strength willing him to push against Meis attempt to pin him again.

“ Not this time you bastard.” He grits out, trying his hardest to leverage out his arm against Meis.

“ Alright Gueira! Show him how hot your soul burns!”

Inch by inch Gueira gains his edge over Meis, against the loud cheering of the small group surrounding them. Gueira sees the strained expression on his opponent's face, as he resists the might against him. However, Gueira's face was too twisted in struggle as he could feel his stamina start to give out on him.

Meis seems to catch on to his wavering strength and in quick burst of muscle, he forces Gueira's arm back. The red head is once again inches away from the table, the strain in his arm burning. His eyes look to Meis, whose face is winced in pain, but the look of victory in his eye is apparent, like a predator ready to bite down on its prey. Gueira does his best to lock his arm in place, but his defeat seems to be on the horizon.

For a split second, he thought that it would be fine to let him win.

Gueira liked Dallas, a lot, enough to put his feelings in mild turmoil over the man almost every time he saw him. Even though he was being ragged on nearly every night, he still thought him lovely and wanted to be closer to him somehow.

However, Gueira wasn't a wuss and wasn't going to let Dallas walk all over him. His pride was on the line, and he'll be damned if he was going to let Dallas lord this over him.

He took a deep breath and let out a strained yell, in a last ditch effort of might, Gueira pushes and pushes until...

BAM!

Gueira pins him down, leaving him victorious.

Galo, Varys, and Aina whoops and cheers echo across the empty space, as Remi and Lucia groan and curse. A look of disbelief once again graces Meis features, as he stares at his pinned arm.

“ Told ya...” Guiera pants out, mouth cut into a tired proud smile. “...my arms ain't twiggy.”

Gueira's eyes trace back down to the pinned hand. His heart skips a beat as he notices his hands are still clenched around Dallas'. Before his thoughts could linger on how nice Dallas' hand feels in his own, Galo picks him up in an excited hug, knocking over the chair, leaving Dallas to watch from the table.

Meis wordlessly stands up from the table and starts to head towards the exit.

“  Heh! Got nothing to say smartass?” Gueira calls out, still gripped in Galo's tight hug.

Meis stops in his tracks, his back still facing the group. He shrugs and responds with, “Nothing to say. You won, fair and square. I'm impressed actually.”

The group is silent as they all try and register if Dallas' is paying Gueira a genuine compliment or...

“ Yep! All those lonely nights you spent jerkin' it with that hand finally paid off. Good job man.”

Gueira could feel his temper rising once more, but rather than lashing out in his usual manner, he retorts with...

“ Yeah, and I got your ass to thank for that. So, thanks for helping me beat it to victory.”

Meis merely shrugs again and continues his way out the door, all the while Galo, Varys, and Lucia cheer 'Oooo!' at Gueira's burn.

Although it was more of a self-burn really.

–

That night Meis returns to his shared apartment, greeted by Lio dressed in sweats in the kitchen seated at the counter half-eaten Twinkie in one hand, his phone in the other as voices blare from its speakers.

“  'M back.”

“ Welcome home.” Lio greets as he finishes off the Twinkie and fishes another from the box next to him.

“ What are you watching?” Meis questions as he kicks off his boots and makes his way to the kitchen.

As he peers over Lio's shoulder, his face falls as he recognizes the familiar scene on the screen. It was him and Gueira arm wrestling, and judging by the angle of the video and her lack of her presence anywhere else in the video, it was clearly Lucia's doing. Gueira's hand slams Meis's on the table one final time and Lucia is heard audibly groaning as the video ends on Meis' shocked face.

“ I swear if I find that video on Youtube, I'm gonna stuff Lucia in a locker with as many sweaty thongs as I can find.” Meis threatens lowly.

Lio knew Meis was only half joking, but ignored the threat to ask.

“ I take it Gueira finally had enough of you tormenting him?”

Meis doesn't answer as he rummages through the fridge to find a snack of his own. He was aware that Lio knew of his nightly hobby, thanks to Aina. Lio's only words to him about it was to not cause too much trouble.

“ Is there any particular reason why you hate him, outside of the incident on Saturday.” Lio takes a bite of the cream filled sponge cake, waiting for Meis to answer.

“ I don't hate him.” Meis explains. “He's just fun to mess with is all.”

He looks back from the fridge to see Lio chewing with a disapproving look on his face.

“ And it's not like I mess with him all the time.” He defends calmly. “Sometimes I do just sit at the bar to have a drink.”

“ And?”

Meis heaves a sigh, closing the fridge with no snack to show for. “And I do listen to his dumb gator stories.”

“ Gators?”

Without really meaning to, he explains to Lio about Gueira's rogue alligator wrangling business, and his Mad Burnish days, and his off-roading, and whatever other stories he's heard from Gueira. Lio quietly listens to it all, noticing the fond smile Meis has while telling him.

–

The sun was high in the sky the next day, it warmed the air to a pleasant degree, with the bright blue skies clear.

It was a shame he had to work on such a nice day Gueira vaguely thought as he sat on a bench a distance away from the office. The sun filtered through the leaves of the tree above him, as he waited for Galo to return with his lunch from the nearby food truck. His arms were spread across the bench, head lolled back as he stares at the leaves overhead.

Gueira's mind wonders absently if Dallas was enjoying the day. Probably not, since he works nights, he's most likely asleep now. Maybe he got to enjoy some of the day before he went to sleep, probably with Thyma. Gueira is grateful when Galo returns with food to distract him from his thoughts. He promptly takes a seat next to Gueira, as the pair start to enjoy their lunch hour.

“ So how's your arm?” Galo asks, taking a bite of his over-sized loaded hot-dog.

“  'S fine, a bit sore.” Gueira replies, rotating his shoulder.

“ I bet, Dallas looked pretty strong.”

“ He was...” Gueira voice trails off, recalling the night before. His mind reminded of the fierce expression Dallas had that set his heart fire and the lingering feel of his hand grasped in his.

“ I'm kinda surprised you challenged him like that.”

“ Why wouldn't I? The bastard kept talking shit.” Gueira grunted, shoving a few crazy condiment covered fries in his mouth.

“ Well, I figured you had feelings for him, so that's why you let him get away with it for so long.”

“ I don't have feelings for him.” Gueira argues back.

“ Then, why did you let him get away with it for so long, normally you'd punch someone.” Galo leans in, arguing back.

“ Well--”

“ And why do you still tip him before he leaves the stage?” He leans in closer.

“ Becau--”

“ And why do you always have that look when you watch his shows from the bar?” He leans in closer still.

“ What look?”

“ This one.” Galo proceeds to mimic the expression Gueira holds when looking at Dallas. A look that was like a child staring at a puppy in a shop window, desperately wanting one, but knowing they can't have it. A mixed sense of yearning, affection, and pain.

“ I-I don't look like that...”

“ Yeah you do! Admit it!” Galo at his point is very much invading Gueira's personal space. “My burning soul can tell you like this guy, and my burning soul is never wrong!”

“ Argh! Fine! I like Dallas! A lot!” Gueria admits, he crosses his arms looking away from Galo attempting to hide the fierce blush on his face. He sighs and mutters bitterly, “But it's not like it matters anyway, he has someone.”

“ What?”

Gueira explains what he saw that day at the cafe, his face dropped in disappointment. Galo sits thoughtfully with his arms crossed, mouth turned up in a serious frown. The silence stretched until Galo finally says...

“ I think you're wrong.” He declares, he turns to face Gueira's skeptical look. “I mean you don't really know for certain, maybe they're just really good friends.”

Gueira opens his mouth to dispute that claim, but pauses. Galo did have a point. He knows what he saw that day, but he had no definitive proof that Thyma and Dallas were dating. However, there was an uncertainty that lingered.

“ Even if he wasn't datin' Thyma, I'm sure he hates my guts. Guy rags on me every chance he gets.”

“ Not true!” Galo declares confidently, earning yet another skeptical look from Gueira. “I noticed as of late, Dallas just kinda sits quietly at the bar, and then leaves. Last night was the first time in a while he's ragged on you.”

“ And?” Gueira questions, stuffing his face with another round of fries.

“ And maybe he likes hanging around you, but is just, you know, quiet?”

Again, Galo had a point, but again that doubt remained.

“ Maybe but, it's like you said.” Gueira sighed. "The other person has to want it, and I don't think Dallas wants to have anything to do with me.”

Galo gives his friend a comforting pat on the shoulder. Afterwards the two eat in retaliative silence, sharing conversations on other topics that weren't about Gueira's crush on Dallas. However, what Galo mentioned still stuck with him. Perhaps he was approaching this situation all wrong and needed to try something different. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but it couldn't hurt to try. His feelings may remain unrequited, but maybe he could find a friend in Dallas.

–

It's almost crazy how things went terribly wrong in the span of a day.

“ _ Wrangling gators and beating me at arm wrestling doesn't mean you could take someone on in a fight dumbass. Guys like you are all talk until someone hands you yer ass.” _

“ _ Wanna bet asshole?” _

Gueira didn't really want to do this, but his pride was on the line once more, and he wasn't a man of all talk. He bragged about being able to handle himself in a fight at the bar earlier and Dallas scoffed at him for it. However, what he said definitely set him off the most. He's been in plenty of fights as the leader of the Mad Burnish of Miami. He's beaten down many men, and those whose he's lost against never wanted to fight him again. Because he was, as they put it, 'Fuckin' crazy', 'Feral ass motherfucker','Wild bastard', and so on.

And now here he was, in the back of Promare, ready to square up against his crush.

“ What's wrong? Gonna chicken out?” Dallas baited, as he stood across from Gueira ready to fight.

The regret and hesitation Gueira held was quickly extinguished and was replaced with rage. He charged forward, arm arched ready land a blow. Dallas easily dodged Gueira's broadcasted move and rounds with a swift kick to Gueira's back. It throws the red-head off balance, he quickly catches himself, and blocks the knee aimed at his stomach. He follows up with a hard punch to Dallas' gut, and then grabs the man by the shirt and slams his fist right into his face.

Dallas stumbles back, clutching his stomach.

“ Had enough?” Gueira panted.

“ Heh, hardly!” Dallas barked, wiping the blood dripping from his jaw, that same fiery gleam in his eyes again. “It's gonna take more than two cheap shots to take me down. You ain't the only one whose ran with the Mad Burnish.”

He quickly charges towards Gueira, he feints to the left, and lands a roundhouse kick. Gueira staggers, but uprights himself in time to block Dallas' follow up kick, but leaves himself open to the next.

Dallas was fast, and was way more of a tactical fighter than he was. However, Gueira knew the secret to these particular kinds of opponents. Over-power them and keep them guessing. Dallas wasn't the only one who was quick.

He lunges forward again, this time closely watching Dallas' movements. Dallas gracefully dodges again, but Gueira is ready, and lands a hard right hook. He doesn't give the long-haired man a chance to recover and punches him again and again. He overwhelms the man in a barrage of attacks. Dallas grabs his fist, pushes it away, harshly grabs his head, and hammers it into the club’s wall. Brick painfully scrapes the side of his head, as Dallas drags the red-haired man against the wall, and finally chucks him forward.

Gueira reels, and cradles his cheek, heavily panting.

“ Running out of steam.” Dallas hums, his hair wildly splayed across his face. He lumbers forward, with a ferocious and chaotic gleam held in his eyes.

Gueira feels a pang of arousal at the man before him, but its pushed away by the adrenaline rushing through his veins, carried by his will to win this fight.

“ Cause I'm not.”

Dallas' fist harshly lands against his cheek with a prominent thud, it sends him reeling once more. He's grabbed by the collar of his shirt, his opponent drawing his fist back for another blow. Gueira rolls his head back, and crashes it against Dallas' head. The other man's grip loosens, he teeters back, dazed by the headbutt with blood rolling down his forehead.

Gueira needed to end this quick, he couldn't keep this up too much longer. He rushes towards the other man and wraps his arms around his waist, catching the other man off guard. He lifts up Dallas up and over, using gravity to drop himself backwards, slamming Dallas on the ground in a suplex.

Dallas goes limp in his arms, his face firmly planted on the ground. Gueira plops to the ground on his butt, exhaustion weighing him down, with throbs of pain blooming all across his body. Gueira looks to his unconscious opponent, a bit of panic settles within him at just how motionless his body was. He rolls the other on his back, and presses his ear to his chest. A steady heartbeat echoed back, he sighs in relief, but winces at the bruises and blood that painted Dallas' face. He really didn't hold back.

Guilt along with a sense of loss wells up within him. He had hoped that he could patch things up with the man, maybe start over again. Instead he lost his temper again and beat him up. He sighs heavily, running his hand through his thick locks, mentally berating himself. He sits Dallas upright and slings his arm over his shoulder. Slowly he stands, Dallas' dead-weight leaning against him, Gueira supporting the main with his arm around his waist.

He starts his way to the entrance, vaguely thinking about apologizing to Dallas when he awakens, for now he needs to get him inside the club to the others. While they were all volunteer firefighters, he was certain they all had some form of medical training, he knew Galo did. Maybe he could salvage this somehow.

Suddenly he feels Dallas slipping away from his grasp, but before he could catch him, the other man grabs him by the arm. In one swift, graceful motion Dallas throws Gueira over his shoulder, slamming him roughly against the ground.

Gueira thinks as his vision whirls, about much of a clever bastard Dallas is. His back hit the ground, he reaffirms about how badly he's botched this whole thing. His consciousness fades and he feels a heavy weight land on him.

_ 'So, it's a draw, huh? Not...bad...' _

–

Meis awakens to a familiar ceiling and a soft bed beneath his frame. Pain wracked his body as he slowly tried to sit up. He made it home, somehow. The clock by his bedside tells him it's late in the afternoon. He pulls himself out of bed, and out of his room.

“Ah good, you're awake.” He hears Lio calls out calmly from the kitchen, sandwich in hand. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit.” Meis answers flatly. He motions to where his friend is and sits at the bar of the kitchen. He pats his face, and feels patches of gauze on his cheek and forehead, he wincing in pain at the sting his own touch. “I take it you patched me up?”

“No, that was Galo.” He says, his voice still calm, but now Meis noticed the hint of irritation behind it. “I did take you back home though.”

“Thanks.” Meis utters softly.

“Tell that to Galo, and also apologize to Gueira while you're at it.” Lio pauses, his gaze held sharply on his friend. “We're Mad Burnish. We don't start fights, and we don't fight one our own unless we have to.”

Lio tone was firm, the same one he used to command the Mad Burninsh. It left no room for argument.

“Yes Boss.” Meis replies, voice filled with shame.

The next night Meis held down the bar on the ladies side of the club. His shift ends and he heads over to where Aina and the others usually hung out. To his surprise, Aina told him that neither Galo nor Gueira had shown up that night. He didn't think too much about it, he'd knew he'd see them the next night.

The next night came and Meis was on stage. He scans the crowd below him, and again neither Galo nor Gueira were to be seen. He once again doesn't let it bother him, it wasn't unusual for the pair to miss out on a night or two at the club. He figured they had to come back at some point, neither of them could stay away for too long.

Lo and behold he was right, about Galo at least. The following night, he saw Galo in the crowd, cheering loudly as usual. He looks to find Gueira perched at the bar, but does not see him. A pang of guilt runs through him while he's on stage, he tries to ignore it, but it lingered like a stench.

The night winds down, and Meis finds Galo happily chatting with Lio at the bar. He remembers Lio saying he'd be covering Aina's shift for a while, since she was caring for her sister who had came down with a very bad case of the flu. Galo notices the man approaching the bar.

“Yo, Dallas! Great show as usual.”

“Thanks.” Meis acknowledged gently. He's pleasantly surprised to find Galo didn't hold it against him for beating up his friend. His eyes locked with Lio's, who had an expectant look on his face. “And thanks for patching me up the other day.”

“Oh, no problem. I'm a volunteer firefighter after all, helping people is part of my duty.” Galo assured proudly. “ Gueira must've really gave you the business the other night, cause you both were out cold. Had to tie him to my back with rope to get him back home on my bike.”

Meis wants to question how he did that, and why he had rope on his person, but now was not the time for that.

“How was he?” Meis asks, trying not to sound too concerned.

“He's fine, the guy's tough. I think his pride was hurt more than anything really.”

“You don't seem to be upset about this.” Lio questions, eyebrow arched.

“I mean, I kind of am, but I get it.” Galo gestures vaguely. “ It's not manly to back down from a challenge, and Gueira's not the kinda guy to wimp out. You get it, right Detroit?” Galo looks to Lio for an answer.

“I suppose.” Lio sighs in agreement, his brow pinched in irritation. “However, ending a fight is one thing, starting one is another.”

Meis quietly gulps as Lio shoots him another look.

“I guess that's true.” Galo muses.

“Right.” Meis mumbled, his gaze cast to the side in guilt. “I guess I'll get going. See ya 'round Galo. Boss.”

With that Meis leaves, not enjoying the awkward atmosphere at the moment.

“Hm, I guess he does feel a little bad about it.” Galo speculated aloud as he watched Meis make his way out.

“He should.” Lio criticized, wiping down the bar.

“Hey, why'd he call you Boss earlier?”

“A nickname really, and 'cause I'm the club's owner.” Lio shrugs.

“Ah.” The mohawked man takes a sip of his drink, and sputters when the comment finally reaches his brain. “Wait! What!?”

As Meis mounts his bike, the guilt and shame he felt was unmistakable. He knew he would have to apologize to Gueira the next time he saw him, which had to be soon, right? The thought that he may have chased the man away, started to bother him. Part of him hoped that maybe he was wrong. It was like Galo said, Gueira wasn't a wimp, so a fight shouldn't be enough to send him running, right? However, everyone had a breaking point, even Gueira. Still, that sort of thing didn't fit the hot-headed, boisterous, cocky man he had observed over time.

The next few days came and passed, and it was now officially a week and a half since Meis had seen Gueira at the club. Galo was still seen in the crowd during shows, and at the bar afterwards happily chatting with Lio, who was still tending bar in Aina's stead, as now she managed to catch her sister's flu.

As those days passed, an unexpected emptiness began to grow within the dancer. Meis never imagined that not seeing Gueira cheering for him in the crowd, would fill him with sadness. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he missed the man, it was just that he had gotten use to his presence, and not having Gueira among the crowd just didn't feel right to him.

He started to sit at the bar again, listening to the various conversations that would get passed along with Galo and the others, now with Lio included. He didn't mind listening to the others, but it didn't feel the same without Gueira. Often he'd have a drink or two and leave, not contributing much to the conversations. It was boring without Gueira.

He noticed Lio staying later at the bar though, seemingly interested in talking with Galo. He decides to let it be, for now.

He delayed asking Galo where his friend had been over the last week. He didn't want to seem like he was missing Gueira or rather, he didn't want to hear that he was the reason Gueira wasn't around anymore. Luckily he was around to hear Lucia ask his burning question.

“So, where is our local Florida Man? Hadn't seen him since you dragged him and Dallas back here after their fight.”

“You still owe me $50 by the way.” Varys chimes in.

“Hey, the bet was whoever CAME BACK alive. They both did, via Galo, so I don't owe you squat.” Lucia corrects, firmly jamming her finger on the bar.

“Regardless, where is he? Is he okay?” Remi cuts in.

“Yeah, he's fine.”

“Okay then, where is he?”

“I don't know, hadn't seen him at work since last week.”

“Wait! What!?” Lucia cries out.

“Then how do you know he's okay?” Varys asks.

“My burning soul tells me Gueira is fine, and that he probably lost his phone again.”

Collective groans are heard across the bar, along with forehead slaps.

“Hey c'mon guys. I wouldn't be here if something was really wrong with Gueira. We've been friends for a while, I know the guy like the back of my hand.” Galo emphasizes by displaying his hand, but then giving it a closer look. “Huh, where did this cut come from?”

More collective groans were heard, along with an very exhausted 'Oh my god' from Lucia. As if on cue, Galo feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reads the message and exclaims proudly...

“Aha! I just got an email from Gueira. He says 'Lost my phone, not dead.' See I told you! My burning soul never fails me!”

Remi concedes, pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head at Galo blind optimism. “That doesn't tell us much of anything Galo, but okay.”

If looks could kill, Galo would be a smoldering pile of ash, courtesy of Meis' heated glare. He could not help but to be quietly astounded by Galo's seemingly unconcerned attitude of his friend's whereabouts. The others appeared to have yield to Galo's words as they don't push the matter further, then again he doesn't blame them for wanting to avoid the headache of pulling information from Galo's thick skull. For now he would have to accept the reality as it is.

It was another paperwork night at the club, as the usual trio sat late into the night trying to play catch up. Week two of 'No Gueira' had ended, by this point Meis had come to terms with the guilt that had settled in his bones. He tries to appear unaffected by the lack of Gueira's presence, and for most part succeeds, except Thyma seem to have gotten perceptive to his mood over time.

“Meis are you alright?” Thyma's voice was soft with caution and concern.

“I'm fine, why?” Meis' replies as calm as usual, as he types away on the tablet in his hand.

“Well, you just seem a little off as of late is all.”

“How so?”

Thyma shuffles through her thoughts aloud, not quite finding the correct words to express her reasoning. Lio chimes in with words she needed.

“You're dancing as of late has had this sense of melancholy to it.”

“Yeah, I've noticed that.” Thyma agrees.

“Everyone has off nights.” Meis counters calmly, eyes still focused on his task.

“You sit at the bar for a drink or two and promptly leave, which according to the others, is rather unusual for you.” Lio continues.

“...”

“And to top it off, you've been rather mopey around the apartment as of late.”

“I'll admit, I've been feeling a little tired as of late.” He rolls his shoulders, his tone still even. “I probably might take another bar shift if that's fine with you.”

“If you think it'll help, I'll see what I can manage.” Thyma offers.

“Thanks Thyma.” Meis stands, his muscles and bones creak as stretches. “I'm gonna have a smoke.”

The two watch the long-haired man leave, and as they hear the sound of his boots fade away from the door, Lio heaves a sigh, letting his head drop.

“I take it there's more to it, Boss?”

“There is, but Meis has a bad habit of keeping everything to himself, unless you prod him hard enough, but prod him too hard and he won't talk.”

“Does he not trust us?”

“On the contrary actually, he just doesn't want us to worry.”

The cool night air chills his shoulders as Meis leans against the brick wall outside the club, the same one he smashed Gueira's face into not too long ago. He takes a drag of his cigarette, and smoothly exhales, letting the smoke and his frustrations waft through the breeze. He really wanted to make things right, but without proper knowledge of Gueira's whereabouts, it was pretty much impossible. He had hoped to see him at the cafe that he frequents, but even there he had not seen the man

Looking back on it Gueira wasn't that bad. Loud, annoying at times, kind of stupid, but not bad. Meis was suspicious of the man at first, considering his line of work, he thought that he was just yet another patron, trying to get into his pants. But his actions told a different story, Thyma told him about how he helped with her scooter, Galo had nothing but glowing praise of the guy, and even he kicked that drunkard’s ass.

All in all, Gueira seemed nice, he was cool, strong, and could handle well in a fight. Perhaps he judged too harshly. Maybe if things were different he'd might have actually found a friend in him.

He takes another drag, tapping the embers away at the butt, dully thumping his head against the wall.

_ 'Ugh, I've been such a dick.'  _ He thinks.

He gets one more drag out of the cigarette and drops it to the ground, letting the butt burn itself out as he walks through the door.

The halls of the club are quiet, save for the soft echoes on Meis' boots clacking against the floors, and a frantic quiet whisper. He peeks down a hall to see Thyma facing away from him, on her phone talking to someone, at this late hour it could only be one person. Reus, Thyma's shitty leech of an ex.

She doesn't like to talk about him at all, if ever. All Lio and Meis knows is that he's a leech, a horrendous asshole, and even after Thyma made the effort to move far, far away from him, he somehow has followed her to Promepolis. The two had offered to gather up a few trusty members of the Mad Burnish to personally have him “taken care of”, as they've done with many abusers and the like in the past, but Thyma has vehemently forbade either of them from doing anything to him.

They begrudgingly respect Thyma's decision and allow her to handle her affairs as she sees fit, but both Lio and Meis can't help but to want to do more. He watches Thyma, hang up and the tension drains from her shoulder with a shaky sigh. When she turns to see Meis down the hall, she avoids his gaze and approaches him, her expression filled with a sad shame.

“How much of that did you hear?” Her voice is heavy with defeat.

“None of it.” He spoke in a calm earnest tone.

She nods, rather than speak, too tired to give an answer. Meis' heart softens as he sees the woman trying very hard to keep it together, but his heart also burns in anger that she has been brought to this point.

“Hey...uh...” He starts, rubbing the back of his head. He's not very good with dealing with people when they're emotional or on the verge of being so, but he didn't want to leave Thyma like this. “Do you, uhm, want a hug?”

Thyma looks up slowly to see Meis' arms weakly stretched out. Her lips twist into a pitiful smile, as she slowly shuffles into his embrace. Meis' arms firmly wrap around her, his chin resting atop her soft mane. He feels her wiping away the few tears that spill out in his arms. She says she doesn't want Lio to see that on his shirt and worry. He nods. They stay like that for a while, and as they do so, an idea forms in Meis' head.

–

It was midway into week three of 'No Gueira'. Galo still had not seen or heard from his friend, and was still just as unconcerned as he was last week. It drove Meis up the wall. He decides to take matters into his own hands, and takes to the streets. Mad Burnish were a tight knit group, surely some of the others would have heard anything about where the former leader of the Miami Mad Burnish could be.

Annoyingly enough, many of the members have heard of him, met him once or twice, they've even hung out with him at one point or another, but none had seen him as of late.

“Sorry, Meis, but we'll keep an eye out.”

“But if you see 'im before we do, tell 'im where to find us. We'd love to hang out with him again.”

“Guy 's a fuckin' riot.”

Meis' search lasts until the end of the week. He's asked more members, visited some of the places Gueira mentioned hanging out before, and he's even asked the baristas at the cafe if they've seen him. It was all a fruitless endeavor.

Sunday night rolls around, a slow usual night, and Meis has finished giving his last private dance of the night. He was tired and thought about calling it a night early, but decided to have one drink before leaving for the night.

He approaches the bar, and his eyes light up. There drinking at the bar, chatting it up with everyone, was Gueira. A flood of relief, and unexpected happiness washes over Meis. He wills himself to calm down and continues towards the bar. Galo notices Meis approaching the bar and calls out to him.

“Hey Dallas, look who came back!” Galo points to Gueira whose eyes settle on the dancer. Meis expected him to be hostile, but instead he looked unsure, as if he was self-conscious.

“Turns out he was in LA for a business trip, and lost his phone...again.” Galo continues, slapping his friend on the back heartily.

“Quit screaming out my business dude.” Gueira spits out in irritation.

“Serves you right, I spent three weeks telling everyone you were fine, and you couldn't bother to contact me outside that one email. So cold to me...” Galo pouts.

“I lost my phone!”

“And didn't bother to ask for my number when you got a new one!”

Gueira opens his mouth to argue, but closes it again, cause he really probably should have done that through email, rather than waiting until he got back.

“Whatever...” He mumbles, his attention turns back to Meis.

“So yeah, Dallas missed you while you were gone.” Lucia mentions with a mischievous grin.

Meis balks, crossing his arms, and turns his head, trying to hide the blush creeping across his pale face.

“His dancing was all sad and mopey while you were gone.” Lucia teases.

“No it wasn't!” He denies through gritted teeth, he couldn't believe it was that noticeable.

“And he was sad and mopey at the bar too.” Lucia continues, her grin widening.

Meis' huffs in annoyance, still attempting to hide his reddened face. Lucia was definitely getting shoved in a locker later, with a lot of sweaty, smelly thongs.

Gueira hops off the bar stool and grabs something from underneath, a guitar gig bag. He approaches Meis, with a look of uncertainty on his face.

“So...” Gueira begins. “This is for you.” He holds it out to Meis with almost a sense of reverence. Meis carefully takes the covered instrument, a look of surprise graces his face.

“Listen, I'm sorry.” Gueira sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was my fault you got that bottle thrown at 'cha and got your guitar wrecked. I didn't mean to ruin your show.”

He was apologizing, after all Meis had done,  _ he _ was the one apologizing.

“I overstepped some boundaries, let my emotions get the better of me, and caused you trouble. I realize that now.” He sighs. “So from now on, I'm just gonna stay out of your hair.” He finishes, shame still in his voice. “So, see ya.”

He turns to leave, his back gradually getting further and further away. Meis feels like if he lets Gueira walk out the door, he'll never see him again, and a panic rises up in his heart.

“Gueira wait!” He speaks up loudly. The fluffy haired man stops short and turns to the dancer. All eyes are on him now, he'd rather them not, but it doesn't matter now. He calls out again, pink dusting his cheeks once more. “I-I want to apologize too...s-so get over here.”

Meis starts heading over to the now darkened center stage, Gueira follows him, albeit a little confused. Meis gently places the instrument on the stage and climbs up to sit at the edge. Gueira climbs up as well and settles down next to him.

“Listen, I'm sorry too.” Meis admits. “I was an asshole to you, and took it too far. I wasn't sure about the kind of person you were, I'm still not, but I can see you're not as bad as I thought. So let me make it up to ya.” He finishes, and begins to remove his new instrument from its casing, but soon realizes, this guitar doesn't feel right.

After completely removing it, Meis sees that it wasn't a guitar at all, but a shiny, new, pure black banjo.

There's a beat of silence as he stares down at the instrument, he snickers quietly, then not so quietly, until finally he is full on laughing.

“Y-You dumbass, this is a banjo.” He giggles, holding the banjo by the neck.

Gueira looks confused, as he tries and process what's so funny. “Ain't they the same?”

“No!” Meis cackles. “They're completely different instruments! Hahaha!”

“Oh goddamnit!” Gueira cries out in frustration, slapping his hand on the stage, before holding his head in his hands. “Fuck! Hand it over, I'll get a new one.”

By this point Meis had fallen on his back, still laughing. He takes a few deep breaths to settle himself and sits up, plopping the banjo in his lap.

“I-It's fine.” He assures, tuning the banjo, plucking a few strings. “It's different, but I can make do. Hell, it'll probably fit more with my theme than the guitar did.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude, so...thanks.” He says kindly, placing his hand gently on Gueira's shoulder, with a small smile stretching his lips.

He tunes the instrument a bit more, giving it few test strums, before striking the G-chord. He nods to himself, satisfied with the sound.

“So, got any requests?”

Gueira hesitates a bit before requesting. “I didn't get to hear the show on Saturday, so...”

“Say no more.”

Meis' voice echoes smoothly through the club, the banjo offering an interesting harmony, making a completely different rendition to the song on Saturday. Everyone at the bar has their attention to the stage, Gueira is absolutely enraptured, he could listen to the man forever if time could allow it.

A warmth makes home in his heart, a warmth he's tried to extinguish for three weeks. While he was in LA, he had made the decision to apologize to Dallas, and then quit going to the club, in an attempt of trying to end his feelings for him. However, as soon as he saw Dallas, and the minute he started singing, Gueira's heart was ensnared once more. There was just no getting away.

The song ends and applause is heard throughout the sparse crowd with Gueira being the loudest of course. The two maneuver over to the bar once again, and Meis vaults over the bar and starts making him a drink. Gueira is suspicious, but Meis assures him that it's not 'The Asshole' again. He presents the drink to the man, and watches his face as the red-head hums in surprise.

“Oh shit, it's good.”

“Yeah, I call that the 'Blue Rose from Texas'.” He vaults back over the bar and settles next to Gueira. “So how was your trip?”

And so the two talked and drank pleasantly into the night.

–

It's the early morning again and Meis decides to treat Thyma to breakfast at the cafe again. The two make their way out the door on to the busy streets.

“I don't know Meis...” Thyma begins with an uncertain voice.

“It's not like we'll be really dating, it'll just be for show.” He explains. “If that asshole sees me hanging off of you, he'll probably back off.”

Thyma couldn't argue with the fact that Meis indeed had a very intimidating aura to him.

“Maybe but, we'll have to hold hands, and...” She pauses for a moment, looking down at her feet, but continues in a smaller voice. “...kiss, and it'll have to be convincing and I'm not sure if--”

A shadow darkens in front of her, she feels his hand gently cup her cheek, fingers trace along from cheek to chin. He carefully tilts her head up, her big, green eyes widen as they meet the smoldering gaze of sharp, deep blue ones. Meis begins to close the distance between their faces. Thyma's heart skips a beat, heat rushing to her face, as she shuts her eyes tight, unsure of Meis' next move. His forehead gently lands on her's, as his lips are a hair's breath away from her's. His dark hair curtains around them, offering a private moment.

“I'd say this would be enough.” He teases in a low sultry voice. “My hair covers up enough to fool someone, wouldn't you say.”

Thyma nods dumbly, her voice caught in her throat.

Meis straightens himself up, and wraps his arm around Thyma, pulling her close as they stroll down the sidewalk.

“Too much?”

“N-No, this much is fine, but next time, could you warn me when you're going to do that.”

He chuckles softly. “Sure.”

“And we'll have to discuss do's and don'ts”

“Of course.”

“And this only needs to be convincing enough, I don't want too many people getting the wrong idea.”

He hums in agreement.

Completely unbeknownst to them, the two had managed to fool at least one person that day, Gueira. He watched the whole scene unfold from across the street, and watches the pair walk off, oblivious to his presence only some feet away. Gueira feels the familiar pain of his heart breaking once more, and does his best to shake it off.

He has a new start with Dallas, and that should be enough.

It should be enough.

  
  
  
  



	5. Communication Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how do you go from patron to friend with a stripper? Like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really push me to keep going with this.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. I know things as of late have been chaotic and difficult for everyone, myself included. However, nothing lasts forever. This too will pass eventually. Things are going to change, and at some point, we'll be able to go about our daily business once again. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

“So then after that, she tried to pay me in meth and I was like 'Lady, just me pay the $75.', then she was like 'How about I show you a good time.' and then hiked up her skirt.” Gueira explains to the usual group at the bar, scrunching up his face as he recalls the memory.

“Oh god,” Dallas mutters in disgust.

“I knew meth was a helluva a drug, but I didn't know meth could fuck up your pussy, and _that_ was obviously meth pussy.”

“Jesus fuckin' Christ,” Dallas snorts.

“So I was like, 'Lady, either pay me the money, or that gator is going back in the pool!'”

“Did she pay up?” Aina asks, putting away a few clean glasses on the rack.

“Yeah, but she only had like $40, so I took it and left.” Gueira pauses to take a sip of his drink. “But later that night I chucked that bastard back into her pool.”

“You dick-hole.” Dallas snickers, playfully shoving the other man.

“He wasn't that big, maybe a little smaller than Lulu.” He gestures to the tiny DJ. “So it's not like he could do any real damage.”

The new routine Dallas and Gueira had fallen into was comfortable. Gueira restarted Dallas' free tea at the cafe, sometimes they would even have a short chat. After a shift at the bar or night on the pole, Dallas would make his way over to Gueira and the others to talk it up for night. Well, listen more than talk really. Gueira had learned that Dallas wasn't much of a conversationalist; he would speak when spoken to, and even offer his opinion here and there, but not much else. Which was fine with Gueira, he was just happy to be on friendlier terms with his favorite dancer.

However, Gueira soon realized that he didn't actually know anything about Dallas. He's fairly certain the man knows a good chunk about his own life story, given how many stories he's told at the bar, but what does he know of Dallas? He can sing and play guitar, he's strong, quiet, clever, and he may have been a part of the Mad Burnish. That was more of a profile than actually knowing a person. What was about this man that put a warmth in heart that threatened to set him ablaze every time he laid eyes on him? What was the draw that pulled Gueira in, and wouldn't let go? What was that attraction to him that yearned to learn more? How could he learn more, with the boundaries set in place?

It was yet another night at the club, but this time Dallas wasn't on stage or manning the bar. It wasn't until the club began to wind down did he finally make himself known. He plopped down at the bar with the others, looking more exhausted than usual.

"Rough night? " Aina comments, preparing his usual drink.

He wordlessly nods, running his hand through his hair. "Tonight was my private dance night. I've been going since the club opened tonight." He explains.

"Oof, that's a lot," Lucia chimed in.

"Wait? Private dances?" Gueira questions, and quickly all at the bar, save for Galo, give him an incredulous look.

"Are you being serious right now?" Remi asks, eyebrows raised as he stares at Gueira over the rim of his glasses.

"Yeah?" He replies, sipping his drink.

The glasses clad man sighs and explains. "You can schedule private shows from the dancers here, unlike other establishments which have the dancers walking around trying to seduce you into one. "

“Wait?! Seriously?! I didn't know that?" Galo gasps in surprise.

"You two have been coming here for like, three months and didn't know that?"

“Well excuse us Mr. VIP, we ain't exactly experts on titty bars.” Gueira bites back, firmly setting his drink on the bar.

"So what happens in a private dance?" Galo asks.

Remi and Meis explained the details on private dances at the club, prompting Meis to tease vaguely about details on the 'extra services', if clients were polite enough. Suddenly Gueira was struck with the temptation of having Dallas' full, undivided attention privately, for how ever much time he could pay for.

That night, with his phone in hand and the club's scheduling screen softly illuminating the enticing decision, Gueira lays alone in his bed rationing pros and cons of a private dance with Dallas. Something like this could become addicting, given how strongly he felt for the man, and simultaneously awkward considering how friendly the two had become since his return to the club. He didn't want to ruin a good thing by letting his dick and heart make his decisions, dealing with the complicated feelings of it afterwards.

Indulge in a fantasy, or be happy with the reality? Luck out and have both? Either way it goes, Dallas could not be his in the way he wanted.

He bites his lip, thumb hovering above the 'Confirm' button, his mind echoing with the conflict of 'Do it!' and 'Don't do it!'. He lets out a frustrated growl, and chucks the phone lazily to the foot of his bed. He burrows himself under the covers, briefly peeking over them to see the dull glow quietly luring him back.

Rationing eventually gives out to desire, as he confirms his appointment.

–

Meis could easily say the most surprising thing was not the fact that Gueira had asked for a private dance, but how long it took for him to actually finally schedule one. He had expected the man to start asking for private dances no sooner than when he started to become a regular. Though it was better for it to happen now rather than earlier, because tonight Gueira paid for an hour long private dance. If such a request was asked earlier, it probably wouldn't have ended well.

Meis strolls into the private booth clad in a sexier version of his cowboy outfit. His eyes meet Gueira's, who was sitting on the couch fidgeting nervously. He smirks, when he sees the red-head eyes widen and mouth gape open slightly, as he drinks in the stunning dancer's appearance. He wonders what kind of face he'll make once he starts the lap dance.

“Howdy. Finally decided you wanted me all to yourself?” He teased in a sultry tone.

“Uhm, maybe?” Gueira answers with a shrug, unsure expression painted his face along with a blush that rivaled his hair.

“Aw, ya ain't gotta be shy 'round me darlin',” He purrs as he closes the gap between them.

“Yeah well, you ain't gotta use your stripper voice 'round me.” He counters, regaining some of his confidence in his voice.

“Fair enough.” He chuckles, as he perches himself on the arm of the couch. “So, how do you want me tonight?”

“Well I figured we could just chat, you know?”

“That's fine we could start with that--”

“No, uh, I meant like, the whole time.” He corrects, rubbing the back of his head, shy dopey smile present on his face.

There's a short silence as Meis tries to piece together Gueira's request.

“So, you paid a stupid amount of money, just to chat with me for an hour?” The dancer utters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So this whole thing was a ruse just to have one-on-one time with me.”

“Yup!” Gueira announces proudly. “Clever right?”

“Dumbass, you could've done that for free at the bar,” Dallas snaps back.

“Well yeah, but you rarely talk and the others are always there interrupting, and I can't talk to you at the cafe 'cause you're tired and I got work.”

Meis knew Gueira was a bit of an idiot, but he didn't think to this extent. He knew he was being genuine though, which was kind of sweet he would admit to himself. He sighs and shakes his head, moves from the arm of the couch to Gueira's lap, startling the poor man.

“Arms on the back of the couch.” He demands. “I don't do this with any of the other patrons, but since you paid so much money, I might as well make it worth your while. Be grateful.” He continues settling himself comfortably. 

The fluffy -haired man's heart thunders in his chest and the feeling of a fiery heat rises to his cheeks, over the suddenly having the gorgeous man in his lap. The sensation of having Dallas’ nearly bare, plush ass firmly planted on his crotch is almost too much for him, as he tries to will away the boner steadily trying to rise in his pants. Dallas clears his throat giving him an expectant look. Right, conversation. He was here to have a pleasant chat. He focuses on pushing the blood back into his brain to think of a topic to start with.

“Ah right, so uhm, you a Cowboys fan?”

Meis huffs out a short laugh, of course he would start out with that. “Not particularly, I'm more of a rugby guy, but I do watch football during the off-season.”

“What's rugby?”

The conversation moves from a quick, simple explanation of rugby, to off-roading, enjoyment of paintball, video games, music, food, and whatever little topics Gueira could come up with. The long-haired man found that they had a lot more in common than he thought. Meis found himself to enjoy talking to the man, finding him rather easy to talk to. He hadn't realized just how relaxed and at ease he felt around him.

“...but seriously dude, if this stripping thing stops working out for ya, you could start a band.”

“Heh, been there, done that, wouldn't do it again.”

“Wait, you were in a band!?” Gueira yells in surprise, making Meis wince.

Luckily a soft ping echoes throughout the room, making Meis quietly relieved that he didn't have touch upon a rather low point in his life.

“I guess that will be a story for another time,” He lies.

“My time is up, huh. Man, I really wanted to hear about that.” The fluffy haired man whines, letting his head drop against the couch, but soon rights it up again, as he's realized something. “Hey, since I was nice and all, don't I get that 'extra service' you were talking about.”

“Extra service? Hmmmmmm. Nope. Don't remember saying anything like that.” He feigns, knowing smirk stretching on his face.

“Aw, come one, don't be like that. You said you were gonna make this worth my while.” He pleads.

“Alright, alright. You can make one request, that's within reason, and takes less than 10 minutes.”

“Awesome.” Gueira ponders for a minute, a mischievous grin settles on his face before he blurts out. “How 'bout a kiss?”

Meis' fierce blue eyes bore heavily and dangerously, as he glares daggers at the man whilst still seated on his lap.

“I'm joking, joking I swear.” He protests, holding up his hands, instantly regretting he said that. “A lap-dance or a strip tease is fine.”

The air is still, as Dallas doesn't move from his lap, his eyes still narrowed at him. The seconds tick by and a heavy anxiety shoots up within Gueira, as he mentally screams at himself for fucking this up yet again. He watches the other man lean in, and prepares himself for the worst.

No pain comes, or harsh words, but instead the gentle feel of a soft warmth a mere hair's breadth away from the corner of his mouth, as Dallas gives him a chaste kiss near his lips.

“Guys like you are all talk until someone hands you yer ass.” He taunts in a low voice, with a wicked grin spread across his face.

Gueira sits frozen in place, absolutely stunned by the other's actions, as blush creeps across his face once more. He barely registers Dallas scribbling something on his arm in lipstick, and leaving his lap.

“I should charge you out the ass for that, but I guess that can be on the house for tonight.” He says with a shrug, making his way towards the door.

“D-Dallas...” Guiera calls out quietly, finally finding his voice.

“Meis. My name is Meis.” He corrects, looking back at the befuddled man with a small smile. “I figured it'd be weird to have you call by my stage name when we hang out. Well, be seeing ya.”

With that Meis disappears behind the door, the clacking sound of his boots getting further and further away. Gueira's still dumbfounded on the couch, until he registers Meis wrote something on his arm. He looks to see in blue lipstick “We should hang more” and his number.

Gueira's heart soars, as he loudly whoops in the empty booth.

From down the hall Meis hears the joyful outcry and can't help but to chuckle. Fluffy-haired fool was really getting worked up over a playful smooch and his phone number. Then again, he was the one who initiated it all, so what does that say about him? Meis doesn't let the thought linger, but rations that he was just teasing and really did want to spend time with Gueira outside of the club. He was just hoping for a new friend out of this, nothing more, nothing less. For now he leaves it at that as he saunters to his next customer.

–

It had been three days since Meis gave Gueira his number, and in that time Gueira had not contacted him. He's talked to him at the bar since then, and has had no problem doing so, which is why he found this so odd. Gueira prided himself on getting things done, often doing before thinking, and yet he found himself unable to do something as simple as sending a text or making a phone call. He would spend a good 30 minutes to an hour re-typing a message, practicing over and over again about what to say over the phone, debating which would be better, a text or a phone call. A meme maybe? He felt ridiculous agonizing over it all, like a teenager freaking out over their first crush.

So now, here he sat outside on his lunch break, phone in hand with Meis' contact info staring back at him. He wrestles with the idea of finally texting him, since he figured Meis was probably asleep by now, but the same problem reared its head again. What the hell was he supposed to say? He's startled out of his thoughts, nearly dropping his phone, as Galo pops out of seemingly nowhere.

“I got your food dude.” Galo calls out, approaching the bench. He peeks over Gueira's shoulder, squinting at the screen. “Who's Meis?”

“Oh, it's uhm, Dallas.” He says with a smirk, scratching his cheek sheepishly.

“Whoa-ho! He told you his real name and gave you his number, nice man!” He nudges him with his elbow, hands still holding their lunch. “You're on your way.”

“Nah man, it's not like that. Besides I told you already, he's dating Thyma.”

“But yo--”

“I saw 'em kissin' the other day...” He trails off, trying to not sound so disappointed. “But it's okay, I got a new friend to hang out with. Now I just gotta figure out the hanging out part.” He looks down at his phone, Meis' number still displayed on the screen.

“Oh, you're having trouble figuring that out?” Galo glances at his friend's phone. “Ah, it's this button.” Galo taps the call button. Gueira's jaw drops, and he jumps off the bench.

“You idiot! Why did you do that?!” The red-head hisses in an angered panic, pulling the phone away from Galo's reach as the dial-tone beeps.

“What?! I thought you were having trouble figuring out how to call on your new phone!” Galo shouts back indignantly.

“I know how to make phone calls dumbass! I meant--”

“ _Hello?”_ Meis groggily mumbles from the phone. Gueira fumbles with his thoughts, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, he takes a deep breath.

“Oh hey dude, didn't mean to call you. I meant to call my ma, your name is next to her's, must've pressed your name by accident.” He lies, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“ _'t's fine.”_ Meis yawns.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?”

“ _Yeah...”_

Crap, of course he would be asleep right now, but Gueira didn't really want to hang up without making this phone call count somehow. He racked his brain trying to come up with something, anything. His eyes dart around, before seeing a flyer taped to a nearby street lamp, a flyer for the Promepolis fair.

“Uhm, before I let you go, you wanna hang out at the fair with me?”

“ _Fair?”_

“Yeah you know, like, Ferris Wheels, roller coasters, cotton candy, shit like that.” There's a pause on the other end, Gueira nervously jingles the change in pocket, pacing about, waiting for an answer.

“ _Sure.”_

Gueira releases the breath that he didn't know he was holding, excitement and joy threaten to burst out of him, as a wide smile stretches his face. His face drops when his gaze meets Galo's shit eating grin. He turns away, as he and the dancer make their plans. He finally hangs up, and pockets his phone. He plops back down on the bench, a wide smile returning to his face.

“Sooo, someone's got a date?” Galo nudges him with his elbow, shit eating grin still on his face.

“It ain't a date.“ Gueira insisted, a bit annoyed, his smile said otherwise. “But we are gonna hang out at the fair next week.”

“Hell yeah, high five.”

The two raise their arms, but rather than their palms slapping, Gueira's hand met with the mildly cold condiment covered french fries. Galo had somehow forgotten he was still holding their lunch. The red-head frowns looking at his hand covered in cheese, crazy mayo, and secret sauce, wandering to himself 'Why did I do that?'.

“Ah, sorry dude.”

“It's fine.” Gueira shrugs. Rather than cleaning himself up, a wicked grin spreads across his face as his grimy hand inches closer to Galo.

“Dude no! I have a meeting this afternoon!” Galo warned, leaning away from the offending hand. Alas it was all for not, as Gueira quickly wipes his filthy hand upon his friend's shirt, giggling all the while doing so.

–

After hanging up, Meis sets Gueira's number into his phone and makes a note for their trip to the fair.

“Dumbass, took ya long enough to finally call me.” He smiles and with a heavy yawn, settles himself back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin


	6. Amusing Seducing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how do you show your new stripper friend a good time? Like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. I know things as of late have been chaotic and difficult for everyone, myself included. However, nothing lasts forever. This too will pass eventually. Things are going to change, and at some point, we'll be able to go about our daily business once again. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

The days passed uneventfully, but the excitement mounted with each passing day as Gueira eagerly awaited his outing with Meis. He made sure to not get ahead of himself this wasn't by any means a date, just two dudes hanging out. He secretly hoped and dreaded simultaneously that Meis would bring Thyma along. While he didn't want to be a third wheel, a sobering reminder of where the two stood was welcomed, especially after Meis pecked him on the cheek.

Gueira at first chalked it up to Meis calling him out on his bluff, merely teasing like he's done before. Granted being flirty was the nature of his job, so he didn't want to look too deeply into it. Although, he feels like he's crossed that mark a bit, as he vaguely wonders what he should wear for tomorrow, as he scrolls through the internet trying to figure out if getting pecked on the cheek is flirty or not, all the while his phone reads 3:21AM.

–

“That bastard is more that 30 minutes late,” Meis muses aloud, leaning on the railing over the river below that snakes throughout Promepolis. He takes another drag of his cigarette as he checks his phone for messages from Gueira. The only one so far was the one he sent earlier saying...

Gueira: Im gonna b late sry 😖😖😖😖😫😫😫😫🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 Ill get u a cotton candy 

He sighs, exhaling a stream of smoke, and puts his phone away for the umpteenth time. Meis managed to show up on time and has since been standing at the gates of the rather impressive fair the city had put together. One would think it was a major amusement park with all the people pouring in and out the gates, and stately rides that had been installed. It was a far cry from the rinky-dink state fair he would go to as a kid in rural Texas. Then again the 'Promepolis Fair Proudly Sponsored by the Foresight Foundation' sign was a dead giveaway of where the money came from to fund such an event. The man was a filthy pile of shit, but damn if he couldn't put together an impressive fair.

He inhales more of his cigarette, watching couples walk hand-in-hand to the gates, some with kids eagerly pulling their parents to the center of screams of fear and joy emanating from the fair. Meis decides if Gueira isn't here before he finishes his cigarette he's going to leave, and there will be hell for him to pay later.

The roar of an engine followed by the screech of tires gathers his attention to the parking lot some feet away. He can't see what bike made that sound, but a part of him thinks in jest that's probably him. Not even three minutes later the red-head barrels up to Meis huffing and puffing.

“I'm sorry...haah...I'm late...woke up late...” He pants out between breaths, slumped over in exhaustion.

Meis merely looks down on the other catching his breath, arm crossed while the other holds the last of the cigarette to his lips. The last bit of it burns to ash, and Meis lets the butt fall to the ground, stamping it out into the pavement.

“You owe me two cotton candies and a candy apple.” He demands coldly, making his way to the fair's gate.

The fluffy-haired man tails behind him after catching his breath. They make it to the admission booth and Gueira insists on paying for the both of them since he was late getting there. Meis agrees, but still demands his sweets later. The total comes up and Gueira reaches his back pocket for his wallet, then the other back pocket. Change and a gatcha toy spills out the pulled out front pockets, and the pockets of his leather jacket produce his phone, but not his wallet.

Gueira's head slowly turns to Meis, a sheepish grin on his face. Meis rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the pitiful display, and pulls his securely chained wallet from his pants.

“Sorry...”

“Don't be, most of this cash was yours to start with.” Meis says handing over the money to the cashier, ignoring the concerned look that flashed across their face briefly. They’re handed their wristbands and joined the masses of the fair.

The two have a look around in relative silence, trying to gauge which ride to go on first. It would be a while before they figured out that this fair was pretty big. The fair took up the city's biggest stadium's parking lot, the blocks around it, and one the park across the street from it.

“This place is fuckin' huge.” Gueira points out.

“Yeah, this map is pretty wide.” Meis adds, staring down at the stretched out in his hands. “Think they killed enough trees for this.”

Gueira ears catch the screeches of the crowd riding the Pirate Ship pendulum. “Wanna start with that?”

“I'm game.”

The two stand in line while making light conversation, however standing behind them was a trio of young, college-aged boys. While Gueira wasn't one to judge based on appearances, he's hung around plenty of trouble makers and delinquents to know what from what, and they were definitely the type. The trio behind them seem to be plotting something, or rather two of the trio were trying to encourage their friend to do something. Meis caught on to the scheming behind him, as he readied himself for whatever they had cooked up.

“Hey.” One speaks confident smoothness, he's clearly an athletic type and smug to boot. “Why don't you--”

“No,” Meis answers flatly, not facing the three behind him.

“Wha...I haven't even--”

“Y'all are standing right behind me. I could hear you three talking about my ass, you weren't exactly quiet.” Meis turns to face them, his exposed eye holding a ferocious gaze. “Now, kindly fuck off.”

The three visibly flinched at the venomous warning and the hostile energy radiating off the man in front of them, as well as Gueira, whose face was turned up in a vicious sneer. The athletic one sucks his teeth, attempting to appear unperturbed by the glaring men.

“Whatever.” He growls angrily, trying to save face. “You're lucky I would even bother with your fuckin' horse-faced ass.”

The line begins to move and the three men shove past both Gueira and Meis, cutting ahead to board the ride. Meis held his angered gaze as he's shoved aside, not offering a word of protest. Gueira didn't hold the same sentiment.

“Oi! You fuckin’--” Gueira begins to storm after the three, but Meis grabs the raging man by the back of collar on his jacket.

“Gueira! Calm down, it's not a big deal.” His tone was calm, yet firm, as he held his friend in place.

“But they--”

“I'd rather not get kicked out of here before getting to ride at least one ride.” He feels Gueira slack in his hand, he's still visibly pissed, but calmed a bit.

“Tch! Fine, don't wanna ride with those dickheads anyway.”

Their turn eventually comes up, soon the pair are whooping and hollering with the crowd. The ride comes to a halt, and Meis and Gueira leave with goofy grins and wobbly legs. They then decide to ride their adrenaline high onto the free drop tower.

“Ah man, the view from here is nice.” Gueira comments from several feet in the air, legs dangling freely. “Look Meis, you can see Mt. Fennel from he--” His words were cut as Gueira and the rest were sent plummeting to ground below, a chorus of screams accompanying them.

The two disembark the ride and start heading for the bumper cars, but not before Gueira sees the jock assholes from before rolling in fast on heelies, his arm steady and ready to push Meis. Gueira quickly switches himself out with Meis, spinning the long-haired man into the spot where he once stood. Before Meis could register what was happening he watches Gueira get roughly knocked to the ground while the perpetrator sped off, his accomplices cackling close behind rolling away on their heelies.

“Dude, you alright?” Meis worries, as he kneels to the ground to help up his friend.

“ 'M fine. My pride is hurt and I'm pissed, but fine.” He carefully stands, dusting himself off, doing his best to hold down his temper. “C'mon let's get to the bumper cars.”

The two have a blast, gleefully colliding into each other, ignoring the ride operator telling them all 'No head-on collisions or t-boning'.

“Ahh! Fuck Meis, if you're gonna ram my ass at least buy me dinner first!” Gueira calls out as the dark-haired man dramatically laughs speeding off ahead.

“I would like to remind our guests that the Promepolis City Fair is a FAMILY FRIENDLY event.” All hear the voice of the very annoyed operator over the intercom, only prompting two to continue their mild rule-breaking fun.

The two leave the ride ready to venture off to their next destination.

“Okay, but not that one.” Meis points to the Tilt-O-Whirl a few feet ahead. Gueira stares at him blankly waiting for an explanation, he sighs and starts his confession.

“Alright, time to come clean, and don't laugh. But...I hate rides that spin. I don't mind if it rotates, but I hate spinning rides.”

“Oh, dude same.” Guiera confides. “Lemme guess, big kids strapped you to the Merry-Go-Round at the playground.”

“Yep, bastards called it 'Blender Time'.” Meis shudders at the memories of being jumped, and tied down. Made to watch the world spin into a nauseating blur, while his tormentors laughed at his shrieks and vomit stained face. “But I got my revenge later. I found some spider eggs that were close to hatching, and snuck 'em in their pockets and lunchbox.”

“Jesus Christ man. Remind me to never piss you off again.”

Gueira suddenly feels himself being roughly shoved forward and something splatter against his back. He stumbles, and he hears the tell-tell laughter of those assholes yet again.

“Don't try the gyro dude, it's shit!”Again the three speed away laughing before they feel the full, fiery brunt of Gueira's wrath.

“Those fuckin--! The hell did they hit me with?!” Gueira quickly takes off his jacket only to find it soiled with a half-eaten gyro spattered across the back. He shakes the jacket and the remnants of the gyro falls to the ground with a wet thud. “Goddamn assholes!”

Meis tells Gueira to sit on the bench nearby, while he heads over to a drink machine. Gueira patiently waits, giving his jacket a sniff, reeling back at the stench. He returns with a large bottle of water. Meis gently takes the jacket and douses it, trying to give it a quick clean.

“It shouldn't stain as much, and hopefully won't have you smell like day-old fair gyro as bad.” Meis says calmly, trying to mask the slight tensity in his voice. He vigorously tries to work the stain out, scrubbing harder than necessary. Wringing out the jacket, Meis hands it back to Gueira. “Ready for the coaster.”

Meis was a little hard to read sometimes, at least to Gueira. While his tone was even, he could tell the man was just as pissed as him, given that he nearly scrubbed a hole in his jacket. Gueira knew he was holding back, but just didn't want those assholes to get to him. A trait he didn't quite understand, but could admire. He wordlessly nods and the two are on their way.

After the coaster the same thing happens again, and again. After each ride, those three were right behind them ready with some annoying prank. Each time the two Mad Burnish try to hold themselves back, opting to try and enjoy their day, but the patience between the two was wearing thin.

The two pass through the carnival games, Gueira taking note of all the cheesy, factory defect prizes, but one prize hanging from the booth gets him giggling.

“Look Meis, it's you.” He points to the large, overstuffed, derpy sharks dangling from the shelf, tempting passers to take one of them home.

Meis doesn't reply and just playfully punches Gueira in the arm, doing a poor job of holding back a smile.

“I'm gonna win one for you.” He holds out his hand for a few dollars.

“Do what you want, but I ain't takin' it home with me.” He hands the other the money, and crosses his arms watching Gueira head over to test his luck.

The name of the game was to get the palm-sized footballs into the hole, while standing behind the line. Each hole varied in size, the 250 point holes being the smallest, barely the size of the footballs. You get five tries, get 300 or more and win a prize. Easy. He was confident enough that he could win this without too much of a problem. Gueira may have not made the football team at any of his schools, but it wasn't because he couldn't throw a ball.

Gueira takes his place behind the line, football in hand. He takes his best throwing stance and readies himself. His arm rears back, and...

“AARWK!”

He fumbles the throw, the ball falling short of its destination and lands behind the counter.

“Four turns left.” Says the booth operator, tossing the ball back to Gueira.

He catches it, but doesn't bother to turn his head to acknowledge the obnoxious, giggling assholes a few feet away. He instead focuses on his next throw, drawing his arm back, he releases the ball. It sails through the air, neatly swishing through the 150 point hole.

“Nice one, Gueira!” Meis cheers.

Hearing Meis cheer for him makes his heart swell, causing a warm feeling to bloom throughout. He gives Meis a lopsided grin, and almost misses the ball being returned to him. Again he rears his arm back, and the ball once more gracefully sails into the 150 hole. 300 points, the shark itself was worth 500. If he could nail the 250 hole, the shark was as good as his.

The ball is returned to him and he was about to throw it, but just as his arm arches, Gueira feels something hit the back of his head. The ball drops from his hand, and for the first time Gueira turns to face his tormentors. One of them threw a half finished drink at him, and all three were having a good laugh at his expense.

“Go for it, you twiggy fuck!” One yells with mocking encouragement.

The simmered rage that had been stewing finally boils over. With guttural snarl, Gueira blindly throws the football at full strength, not aiming at anything in particular.

The ball bounces off a nearby trash can, and ricochets off the corner of the booth, bouncing off the booth next to it. Meis swiftly dodges the ball's path as it pops off the railing behind him, only for it to nail the one of the asshole jocks square in the eye. It bounces off his head and sails straight into the 250 hole.

Both Gueira and Meis watch the man hit the ground. His friends scramble to try and prop him up, but it's all for not. He's too dazed from the blow, leaving the trio to drag their friend away from the scene, one of them glancing back in fear at Gueira.

“We have a winner.” Says the man in surprise.

“Hell yeah!” Meis cries out, looping his arm around Gueira's neck, pulling him close. “That was goddamn amazing!”

“Damn right it was!” Gueira beams proudly, trying his best not to pay attention to the nice lavender scent wafting off Meis' hair or how close he was in this moment. “Now gimme that fat fuck shark.”

The prize was handed over to the red-head to which he presented to Meis with a big cheesy grin. Although he protested earlier, Meis gladly took the over-sized toy.

“That winning shot was way too awesome to not accept it.”

“Hell yeah it was.” The other beamed with pride. “So, you gonna name it?”

Meis pondered for a second, staring down the shark in contemplation, before finally deciding. “Marlo. Gonna call 'im, Marlo.”

The pair strolled along, trying to find another ride as the dark clouds overhead threatened a heavy rain. Meis had tucked Marlo under his arm. The river nearby reflects the gray skies above. Over the railing, in the canal below, Meis spots the trio of dickheads by the river. The one that was beaned in the eye seemed to make a full recover, save for his prominent black-eye. Pity.

Meis catches sight of some pigeons nearby, pecking at the myriad of dropped food on the ground. Among the birds were some sparrows trying to fight some crows for a half-eaten hotdog. Not too far away were a small flock of seagulls doing the same with some ducks and geese with a bag of chips.

“Gueira, go get me some popcorn, a big one, and my sweets. Hurry up.” Meis demands handing over the money, his eyes still focused on the river.

Gueira furrows his brow at the sudden request, but goes off to retrieve the snacks. When he returns, Meis is leaning over the railing, eyes still trained on the river below him.

“What are you looking at?” Guiera catches sight of the men below, laughing and resting near the river. “It's those fuckheads...” He seethes.

Meis grabs the large popcorn bag from the other and starts to shake the bag. The rustling of the treats soon draws in every bird nearby. Other birds take notice of the attention to the delicious temptation nearby, thus drawing in more birds. Gueira's eyebrow cocks in confusion, his eyes scan around for a hint of what Meis was doing. He notices that they were surrounded, many pairs of beady, little eyes locked on the popcorn bag.

Meis opens the bag, unbothered by the intense gaze of every bird around them, as some of them begin to approach the pair. The red-head looks around anxiously, stepping closer to Meis to try and put some distance between himself and the sparrows at his feet. He soon realizes Meis has not taken his eyes off the men below. He looks at the popcorn, then at the birds, and then at the men. A mischievous smile spreads across his face as he pieces together the long-haired man's plan.

“Do it.” He encourages.

With a wicked, toothy smile Meis grabs a handful of popcorn and sprinkles it on the three down below. The men notice the popcorn pelting them from above, but before they could react, the seagulls descended. Then the crows joined in, followed by the sparrows, then the ducks and geese. With every handful of popcorn thrown, more birds flew in, soon all manner of fowl were fighting for their claim to the delectable buttery morsels. A chorus of chirps, squawks, honks, and screams rang out below.

The trio tried to defend themselves from the hungry flock, flailing their arms in an attempt to swat them away. Alas, there were too many, and any strike that managed to hit served only to anger the birds, leading them to peck and bite in retaliation.

One tries to run away, but only ends up in the river, blinded by the many feathers, he splashes around helplessly in the barely shallow end of the river. Meanwhile, the other two could be seen curled up and screaming trying to protect themselves from the aggressive beaks, talons, and webbed feet. The scene played out almost straight out of Alfred Hitchcock, all the while the pair cackled madly, as Gueira recorded the entire thing.

The popcorn bag finally runs out, and the two decided to end their day on a high note before the rains came. The two wandered around the parking lot trying to find Gueira's ATV.

“You gotta send me that video later.” Meis says, trying to shield himself from the light drizzle.

“Sure, once I get back. If I can find my ATV.”

They two search around for a good 20 minutes, with the rain becoming more and more steady.

“I still don't see her.” Gueira scans around from the street lamp he shimmied up, he then carefully slides down, meeting with Meis at the bottom.

“Actually, I've been wondering, how'd you pay for parking with no wallet?”

“Wait...you had to pay for parking?”

There's a lengthy silence between the two, the rain trickling down, and the winds starting to whip up. A crackle of thunder echoes across the sky as Gueira realizes Miami has been towed.

“My baby!”

“You dumbass, how'd you miss the parking booth?”

“I was in a hurry!”

“Fuck it! I'll drive us back.” Meis sighs, heading over to his bike. “And you're riding bitch, and I don't want to hear any complaints.”

The two find Meis' bike and settle on with Meis slapping his helmet on Gueira. Stating that it's raining and if he spills, he doesn't want to be responsible for someone else dying while he's behind the wheel. Gueira wants to argue back, but the bike roars to life. He clings to Meis, and the pair speed off.

–

The pair stumble into Meis' shared apartment, absolutely soaked. The minute the two left the parking lot the rain got a lot heavier, making Meis drive slower for safety sake. Gueira removes his overstuffed jacket causing the cotton candies, candy apple, and semi-wet Marlo to drop to the floor. The red-head pulls off the helmet, shaking out his hair, and freezes in place as he sees the other stripping out of his wet clothes.

“Shouldn't you be doing that in the bathroom or something.” He asks, looking away trying to give the dancer some sense of privacy.

“What are you getting all embarrassed for? You've seen me naked plenty of times.” Meis smooths his hair back, and starts to peel off his pants. “And quit dripping on the carpet. Anyway get out those wet clothes, I'll get you a towel and something dry to wear.”

“Wait...here?!”

“Again, I don't want ya dripping on the carpet.” Meis kicks off the last off his clothes, leaving himself clad in short boxer briefs. After stripping down he leaves Gueira in the entrance way, to retrieve a towel and dry clothes.

When he returns, Gueira is still standing where he left him, struggling to get his wet shirt off his head. The fluffy-haired man notices the others return and quickly tries to hide himself.

“I've seen plenty of men naked before, you've got nothing I haven't seen already.”

“Not all of us get naked for fun, okay!” The other bite back with his back turned, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, I don't just get naked for fun! I do it to get paid.” He corrects placing the clothes near Gueira, doing his best to look away. “I won't look, alright, just get dressed.”

As Meis gets dressed, back facing Gueira, he sees the television reflecting the pair against its sleek black surface. He watches Gueira slowly peeling off piece after piece of wet clothing, revealing the skinny body he tried to hide. Trying to offer the man his privacy, Meis doesn't stare and focuses on dressing himself.

It didn't take much to figure out Gueira had some body image issues, it explains why he got so riled up after he called him 'twiggy' or 'scrawny'. Meis was no stranger to such a feeling, after all, there was a time where even he didn't like how he looked.

Once they were dried and clothed, Meis takes their wet clothes to the laundry, leaving Gueira to make himself comfortable on the couch. The heavy storm rages on outside, as raindrops hit the windows in rapid fire, the winds howl and thunder rumbles on. Looking around, he notices the many band posters on the living room walls, some he knew of, some he didn't. A house plant sitting near the window with few brown leaves, with a few thriving cacti and succulents. There was a vinyl player and library of records, a tv and pair of Switches docked on their ports. There were little skull knick-knacks littered around and candles. Photos of Meis and a group of people he could tell were Mad Burnish, sat along a table.

He was about to take a closer look at the pictures when something cool began to slide up back. He freezes as a silent panic begins to take hold. The sensation moves up his torso and around his shoulder. Inch by inch, coolness slides across his body, gently squeezing his frame as it moves. He doesn't know what to do, he wants to call out Meis, but fear has him locked in place as he watches something writhe around underneath his borrowed hoodie. The cool smoothness wraps around his arm, moving bit by bit towards his hand. Until finally a little head peaks out the sleeve.

It's a snake.

Gueira's voice finally finds itself, he screeches and leaps off the couch. “SNAKE! HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT!! WHY IS THERE A FUCKIN’ SNAKE!?!”

Meis rushes in to find Gueira trying to tear off the hoodie, frantically stumbling around with it over his head.

“DON'T MOVE!” Meis scrambles over, trying to firmly hold the flailing man in place. “Quit movin' dammit! You're gonna be fine!”

“THERE'S A GODDAMNED SNAKE IN THE HOODIE MEIS!!!”

“I know! It's just probably Matilda, now hold still!”

“MATILDA?!”

Meis gently shimmies the hoodie over Gueira, revealing a lovely, pearled colored python wrapped around his tanned, skinny frame. He makes quick work of tenderly coaxing the reptile off the unnerved man.

“You naughty girl,” He coos, as the snake slithers up his arm. “Getting fresh with visitors while daddy wasn't looking.”

Gueira tries to calm himself from his sudden meeting, and doing his best to hold down the sudden flare of arousal of hearing Meis coo in that voice.

A door clicks open, and padding of feet approaches the living room. Gueria furrows his brow at the small figure wrapped in a blanket, blonde hair ruffled in various directions.

“Why is there screaming?” A voice croaks out in a haze of sleep.

“Matilda got out again, scared the shit out of Gueira.”

“Oh.” He yawns, and turns to Gueira. “Welcome Gueira, sorry about Matilda. She likes to explore. I hope she didn't bite you.”

Gueira finally realizes the figure is in fact Detroit, fully clothed, wrapped in a blanket burrito.

“N-No, I'm good. Just didn't expect a snake to come crawling outta the couch.” He pats himself, and gives a once over for bite marks.

“Yeah, sorry about that. She likes to burrow in the couch cushions, probably got cold and tried to find some warmth.” Meis holds the reptile face level to the red-head. “Say you're sorry Matilda.”

Matilda raises her head and flickers her tongue, the only apology one could really get from a snake. She retreats back to Meis' shoulder, clearly not interested in the person that tried to fling her off in a violent frenzy.

“ 'S cool. She's actually kinda cute.” Gueira leans in a little closer trying to get a better look, carefully tracing a finger along her lengthy body.

“She's even cuter when she's in her tank, and not falling out of the cupboards when you're trying to get a snack.” A voice calls out from the kitchen.

“That happened months ago, Lio.”

“And that's why we have baby locks on the cabinets, Meis!” Lio wanders out of the kitchen with a few snacks harbored in his cocoon. “Gueira, I'm sorry I can't stick around to chat, but I have a shift tonight.” He yawns.

“Oh no, it's cool.”

“Hey, don't gorge yourself on snacks, I'm making dinner later. I also don't want to hear you complain about weird snack dreams again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” With that Lio retreated back into his room, the door softly clicking behind him, only to re-open and close again to release his stuck the blanket.

“So you and Detr-- er Lio are roommates?”

“Yep.” He sighs knowing he's going to hear about Lio's dream about being an arson terrorist, again. He turns his attention back to Matilda. “Let's get you back in your tank.”

Gueira watches Meis heading off to his room, and is hesitant for a moment. Not sure whether to follow him or stay behind, ultimately he follows the man into his room. If he doesn't want him there he'll be sure to tell him.

Gueira steps in, and the room definitely fits the man. Framed posters on the wall of bands like, Malice Mizer, Moi Dix Mois, Versailles, and The Gazzette. Gueira has never heard of them, but they remind him of the old 80s hair-metal bands. There are even more skulls decorating the room. Some littered on the bookshelves, and some on the little vanity in the corner. Neatly arranged in the corner are a few guitars and an amp, along with the banjo he gave him. The nightstand by his bed holds an ashtray that is overdue for to be dumped, and he sees a few pieces of clothing strewn here and there. The balcony adjacent to his bed reveals the storm still raging outside.

“Oh cool.” Gueira marvels, and approaches the wall of tanks and terrariums. The soft glow of lights revealed all a variety of reptiles, but mostly insects. “Are these all snakes?”

“Hm?” Looks to see the other in awe of his little collection. He puts Matilda back in her tank and gestures at the all. “Oh, no, most of these are insects, and a tarantula. ”

A hognose snake named Beatrice, of course Matilda the ball python, and Mavis the Mexican-Red Knee tarantula. He also has an array of mantis and beetles, Alice IV an orchid mantis, Lilith the V a Chinese Mantis, Sophia the III an African mantis, and Marie the Spiny Flower Mantis.

“This is Winifred V, she's a rhinoceros beetle. In that tank is Delilah VII, an Atlas. That's Louise, she's in her larval stage right now, but she's gonna be pretty little Dynasties.”

“Cool.” Gueira hunches over to observe the fat larva chilling out on a little branch in her tank.

Meis notices Gueira was still bare-chested, he had yet to put the hoodie back on after meeting Matilda. He decides against pointing out, not wanting the other to get self-conscious again. However, Meis covertly takes in the form standing near him. The man was definitely a bit thin and hairy, but there was lean muscle starting to form underneath. He wondered if the red-head worked out at all.

“You think you might get another bug?” He hears the other ask.

“Oh, uh maybe? I thought about another tarantula or a hissing cockroach.”

“I don't think Thyma would be into that or Lio.” He kicks himself mentally for bringing her up.

“Yeah, she barely wants to step in here with all my babies.” He chuckles, remembering her face dropping the minute she saw his wall. “Lio's definitely put his foot down on the roaches sadly.”

“I think that's what he's trying to avoid.” He snickers. It takes a minute to sink in, but soon the pair have a good laugh over the grim joke.

When laughter subsides, Meis gives Gueira a kind smile. “Hey man, thanks for being cool about my girls. Usually people get grossed out over them.”

“Pfft, dude all kinds of bugs and lizards roam around Miami, I'm used to it.”

“Yeah, I bet.” There's a short pause, before Meis looks at Guiera again, a kind smile still on his lips. “And thanks for today, man. I had fun, despite all the hiccups.”

Gueira's heart nearly bursts out his chest at the warm, genuine smile Meis gave him. Today he could call an absolute win. “No problem, next time we hang out I won't foot you with the bill.”

“You better not.” He chuckles. “Anyway, you wanna stay for dinner? I was gonna call over Thyma, and you could join us and sleepyhead.”

And just that quickly, Gueira's mood dropped, and reality came crashing down along with it. “Oh, uhm, nah. I got food at home, and it sounds like the storm is over. I just remembered I had a thing with Galo later.”

He rushes out of the room, Meis close behind.

“Wait? You sure? What about your clothes, they're still in the wash.”

“It's cool.” Gueira pulls the hoodie over his head, suddenly feeling anxious about being shirtless this whole time. “I'll drop by to pick them up, and give you back your hoodie later.”

“What about your ride? You want a cab? An Uber?”

“It's fine. I don't live too far, I'll just walk. Be seeing you dude, I had fun.” With that Gueira is out the door, leaving Meis confused at his sudden departure.

He stands there for a moment still trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. Did he say something wrong? Do something wrong? Why did he feel the need to leave all of the sudden? He sees Marlo and his fair treats still settled on the floor. He puts away the candy, and scoops up the slightly damp shark.

He gives Marlo a quick drying with his hair dryer, given that he was too big for the dryer. A damp Marlo became a slightly less damp, dry enough for Meis to flop down on the toy. Its residual warmth, and pleasant softness was comforting in the wake of such confusion. The scent of factory plastic, and the musk of Gueira filled his nose.

Questions of why Gueira left still filled his mind. Gueira was weird, but he didn't do things without reason. He knew that excuse of meeting up with Galo was a lie, but if something was really wrong wouldn't he just tell him. He had no problem speaking his mind before, why now?

He sighs, and lifts himself the comfort of the stuffed toy. If Gueira had secrets to keep, he'll let him keep them. He texts Thyma about coming over for dinner, and waits for her to respond, once again allowing himself to flop atop of Marlo, burying the warm smile spreading across his face. All and all, today was fun. He looks forward to hanging out with Gueira again.

\--

It was very much a long walk, which took nearly 2 hours for Gueira to make it back to his apartment. He trudges through the door, feet stinging painfully with every step, legs burning as if to cry out against more movement. Gueira collapses onto his couch in a tired, sweaty heap, lazily kicking off shoes.

He felt pathetic walking 2 hours back home, just so he didn't have to see Meis and Thyma be lovey-dovey around him. The things he did just to avoid a truth he already knew. He was going to have to make sure it didn't become a habit, he didn't want his new friend thinking he hated his girlfriend. He knows he should've stayed, if not for the hospitality, then at least for the sobering reminder he needed. He made the mistake of letting himself think he was on a date with Meis. Then when the reality came, he ran away.

Never again. He vowed from now on to not let that happen again. Meis was a friend, and Thyma was his girlfriend, that's that. However, just for a little while, just for the rest of today, he could indulge. Meis' hoodie stank of Gueira, but there were hints of his cigarettes, lavender, and the natural musk of the dancer. He reaches for the hood, and holds to his nose, taking deep breaths, letting the scent of Meis fill his nostrils.

Today was still good in spite of all. He drifts off to sleep, pretending the hoodie is Meis spooning from behind in a warm embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin


	7. Realization Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how do you realize you've fallen for your #1 patron? Like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!
> 
> The situations in this story are fictional and any similarities to real-life events are purely coincidental.
> 
> With that being said, hi I'm Kiru, and I'm a black woman. The scenes in this chapter (you'll know when you get there) I wrote weeks before the murder of George Floyd, and the subsequent protests. I spent days agonizing over whether I should delete the scenes and rewrite them or keep them as is. Ultimately I decided to edit them a bit and keep them in. I don't want to avoid writing about difficult topics as a writer, because at some point I want to write original stories and I want to be able to write about difficult topics and do it well. Fanfiction is a good way to test that ability in an environment that allows experimentation. Maybe at some point, I'll rewrite the scenes with something better, but for now, I'm pleased with what I have. If you have any concerns or valid critiques, I'll read them and try to follow up as best as I can.
> 
> With that being said thank you all for your patience. These last two weeks have drained me a bit, and I'm certain many of you feel the same. While I have not been able to join protests, due to concerns of the virus, I've decided to contribute to the movement by donating money, retweeting posts, and signing petitions. I encourage you all to the same if you can, do whatever you can. If you're doing those things, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and encourage you to keep it up. If you're protesting, thank you as well, but please be careful. Remember to rest, take a breather, have some fun, and once you're recharged go back out and fight the good fight.
> 
> Again tags may update as the story proceeds, so please pay attention to those.
> 
> Thank you to HollyJolly for beta-ing and thank you to BigBangBurn Discord for screaming this out.
> 
> And as always thank you all for your wonderful comment, they really do encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Alright with all that said, enjoy!

Night fell, and the hours of business for Promare came and passed. Meis and Gueira decided to end the night with a late night breakfast at IHOP. Slowly, it was starting to become a regular thing with them. Conflicting schedules didn't offer them much time to enjoy each other's company, so they carved out time when they could.

The night air was pleasantly chill as the pair waited for food in the outside dining area. The only light offered came from inside the restaurant, a distant flickering street lamp, and the embers of their cigarettes. A quality dining experience that can only be achieved when it's 2 AM and the staff doesn't care, perfection in their eyes.

“So I was like, 'Baby boy you can't eat all those chicken nuggets' and he was like 'Watch me', and you know what?” Gueira takes a short drag of his cigarette before continuing with, “Sonovabitch ate the whole damn thing! 40 nuggets Meis! I couldn't 've been a prouder uncle.”

“That's a rather impressive feat for a 7-year-old.” Meis hums in amusement, taking a drag of his own cigarette.

“Yeah, but it was less impressive when he threw up on my sister afterwards. She was pissed.”

“I take it you're no longer allowed to watch your nephew without adult supervision.”

“Shut up you dick. Anyway, I've been wondering about your bike over there.” Gueira gestures to the dirt-bike parked next to his newly freed 4-wheeler. “You ever go off-roading on it?”

“More when I was younger than now.”

Meis is briefly reminded of aged memories of his youth in his bumfuck of a hometown. He remembers the hours he spent as a young teen working here and there jobs to buy his own bike. He remembers afternoons spent racing the other kids on dirt roads, and taking turns daring each other to do crazy stunts. One of the pocketful of good memories he has of his hometown.

“Think you still got it in you?” Gueira challenges with a cocky grin.

“I'd ride circles around yer ass.” Meis dares back with a huffed laugh.

“Oh I'd like to see you try. When's your next day off?”

“Tomorrow, but I got stuff to do that day.”

“Like?”

“The gang is doing a food drive that day.”

Meis explains how the Mad Burnish not only wreak their righteous havoc against the corrupt elites that inhabit the ranks of Promepolis but, they also do their share to help the communities affected by said corrupt elites. The food drives they do is one of those instances.

“I see.” The fluffy-haired man rubs his stubbled chin in contemplation. “You guys need extra hands?”

“Always.”

Their plans are made; food finally gets served, and conversation gets replaced with eating. Between bites, Meis steals quick glances at Gueira, who was happily stuffing himself with chocolate-chip pancakes dressed with blueberry compote. He cracks a smile watching his friend's cheeks stuffed with over-sweetened pancakes, corners of his mouth smeared with blueberries and chocolate. If it were anyone else he'd find the sight rather sloppy, but with Gueira, it was oddly cute in a way.

Gueira's gaze locks with his. Eyes widened in innocent confusion, cheeks puffed with pancakes. “Whah wong?”

Meis just shakes his head and chuckles, “Nothing.”

\--

The warm afternoon sky was slowly transitioning into evening above the park. A couple of large refrigerated trucks and a few stalls were set up, along with a sizable crowd that were lined up waiting for their turns. A normal scene for the bi-monthly Mad Burnish food drive and donation. One of the many community services the gang can afford to do, in thanks of the many wealthy, unaware patrons of Promare.

The usual trio, as well as other members, were packing up boxes of food to be handed out and delivered for the people in the nearby and surrounding areas. Soon, an extra pair of hands arrived to help with the efforts.

“Yo, boss these two came two help.” One member calls out near the truck, Galo and Gueira in tote.

“Oh! It's you two!” Lio was surprised by their arrival.

“Yep, Meis said you could always use some help, and Galo wanted to help too.”

“Galo Thymos, at your service.” He announces proudly, flashing a dashing smile. “Just tell me what you need me to do, and I'm on it!”

“Well, those stacks of boxes need to be loaded up for delivery.” Lio gestures to a stack of boxes filled with food. “We also need boxes stored in the refrigerated trucks. Think you can handle that?”

“Damn straight. Let's get on it Gueira!”

With that the two set out to start the work at hand. The work flowed evenly, tasks were being handled efficiently. Many of the Mad Burnish enjoyed Galo's enthusiasm and Gueira's humor. Meis certainly enjoyed it, as a low familiar chuckle gets Lio's attention. The blonde looks over to see Meis smiling at his phone for the umpteenth time now. An unusual sight that was starting to become more and more common with him.

“Come on Meis. Quit flirting with Gueira, we've got work to do.” Lio calls out, knowing full well how the other will react.

“I'm not flirtin'.” The lankier of the two defends back, jamming his phone into his pocket, embarrassment latent on his cheeks. “Gueira just keeps sending me dumb memes.”

“Right, right, you two already snuck off on a date last night.” Lio grins watching the pink on his friend's cheeks grow redder.

Lio recalls the night before while he was tending the bar. He remembers Meis and Gueira were off to the side, away from the others, seemingly more interested in each other's company than the rest at the bar. The two were leaning in close to one another, as they gazed down at Gueira's phone, Meis' smile ever present. Lio couldn't help but to think how intimate the scene looked. They spent most of the night like that, scrolling through memes, quietly talking, and laughing. Then at some point, the two decided to quietly slip away. Lio had almost missed the two as they crept out the door.

“It wasn't a date. We went to IHOP.” Meis retorts, pointing an accusing finger at his roommate.

“So, a late night pancake date then?”

“Just for that, I'm not bringing you back pancakes again.”

“Boss don't tease him too much about it.” Thyma attempts to break it up while trying to still pack boxes. “Although I will admit, it's nice to see you two getting along now.”

“Yeah, so much so Meis can't stop smiling when Gueira is less than 3 feet away from him.”

“You cheeky little shit!” Meis sputters, he knows Lio is trying to rile him up, but two can play that game. “That's a lot of talk from someone who shakes their ass twice as hard when that buffoon is around.”

Now it was Lio's turn to be embarrassed. “I do not shake my ass twice as hard around Galo!” Lio crosses his arms, trying to keep a straight face.

“Never said it was Galo.” Meis smirks, watching the heat in Lio's cheeks rise.

“You implied it!” The blonde bites back, stance wide and rigid.

“You mean like how Galo implies that you should come over and check out his matoi. Yeah, I can hear that loud-mouth when you two live chat.”

“Get your mind out of gutter! A matoi is a centuries old instrument used in ancient Japanese firefighting to alert the brigade of the location of-- stop laughing!”

“Can you two not, please?” Thyma pleads loudly.

The bickering pair decided to let it be, for now, and continued with packing. The afternoon's events move forward without issue, but Meis notices something off with Gueira. The man seemed to be having a hard time keeping up with the pace, taking a moment to catch his breath every so often. Moving heavy boxes was an arduous task but, it was barely past an hour since he started.

“Hey, you good?” Meis asks, walking up to the panting man.

“Huh? Yeah, fine.” He waves the man off. “Just...thirsty...”

“Oh, I'll grab some water for you.” The man turns to head over the water cooler, only to hear a heavy thud from behind. His head whips around to see Gueira on the ground.

Alarmed by the sudden collapse, Meis moves in quickly, taking the man in his arms and begins to frantically call out his name. Soon others began to take notice, as a small crowd began to form around the two. Galo takes notice of the commotion and immediately goes into rescue mode. He makes his way over gently scooping up his friend, taking him to an almost empty fridge truck, with Meis close behind him. He sends Lio off to retrieve his kit from his bike. Meis watches anxiously while Galo goes over Gueira's vitals. Bit by bit the passed out man starts to come too.

“Hey bud, you kinda conked out on us.” Galo gently informs, still checking his pulse. “I need you to stay with me okay?”

Gueira gently nods, clearly too tired to respond. Seeing Gueira so drained gave Meis a unsettling panic in his gut, mounting with a frustration of not being able anything to help. Lio arrives with Galo's kit, allowing the man to thoroughly check his vitals. After a few long moments, Galo clears Gueira of anything hospital worthy.

“Everything checks out, he just needs some rest. Sorry, bud looks like you're gonna have to sit this one out.”

Gueira lets out a long pitiful groan in response. Galo tells him that he's going to come back to check on him, and leaves his side, Meis tailing behind him.

“Galo.” He calls out, making sure they're far enough from the truck. “Is he really going to be alright?”

“Yeah, he'll be fine. It's not the first this has happened, it's just...something he has to live with.” He casts a concerned gaze at the truck, then back to Meis. He places a hand on the man's shoulder, giving him a worried smile. “Can you keep an eye on him for me? That guy's burning soul ain't gonna keep him down, and I don't wanna have to strap him down. Make sure he rests up, yeah?”

Meis wordlessly nods, letting Galo continue on, as he heads back to the truck. Gueira was still right where he left him, moaning sadly on the floor of the truck, not the most comfortable place to rest. He decides to break down a few empty boxes, in an attempt to create a makeshift mat. Gently, he moves the weakened man onto the flattened, stacked cardboard. Gueira offers a quiet thanks with a tired smile, Meis returns the smile while softly ruffling his fluffy red hair.

“Hey, Meis you got a sec.” A Burnish member calls out near the truck. “It's Thyma and...I think she might be in trouble.”

He hesitates for a moment, but leaves Gueira's side telling him he'd only be back. Outside of the truck, the Burnish member points near a thicket of trees, there he sees Thyma, shifting uncomfortably and timidly talking with another man. Her pleading eyes meet with Meis', and without a second thought Meis stomps over.

“Thyma!” The woman turns to see Meis, and relief washes over her. He throws his arm around her protectively, glaring at the other man. “This him?”

Up until now, Meis had never seen Reus; Thyma never bothered to show a picture of the man. Looking at him up close, he was the pure definition of a scummy bastard trying to hide his true nature.

“I take it this is your new guy, Thyma?” Reus gives the man a once over. “He seems...nice. Listen err...”

He leaves a pause for Meis to give him his name, he doesn't, only giving the other man a heated glare.

“I see, uhm, listen... err, sir...I'm not trying to steal Thyma away from you. I just want to discuss something with her.”

“We have nothing to talk about Reus, I already told you to leave me alone.” Her words trembled, but her face held determined to keep its courage.

“You heard her. Fuck off.”

“No offense, but this matter does not concern you.”

“Actually it does.” Meis removes his arm and slowly approaching the man, his voice was calm, but a furious fire burned behind his eyes. “Thyma is my girlfriend, meaning it's my job to take care of her. Especially from gambling, blackmailing creeps like you.”

Reus slowly backs away as Meis closes in, his voice still holding a ferocious sharp-edged tone. “Meaning it's also my job to take care of shit stains like you.”

Reus' back hits the trunk of the tree, and without warning Meis' slams his fist right into the tree, inches away from the bastard's face. As much as he wants to make the man pick up his teeth off the ground, it's too risky, especially since he's blackmailing Thyma. Right now, all Meis can do is be a Thyma's scary ass Mad Burnish “boyfriend”.

“Y'all ain't got no business with her, now leave! Unless y'all wanna wind up burned by the Mad Burnish.” He threatens lowly, his Texas drawl seeping into his viciously tone.

Reus flinches at what he assures to be a promise, he notices other Mad Burnish's eyes focus intensely on the scene nearby, ready to jump in any second. Meis backs up, his eyes still locked on the other man. Reus casts a wavering nervous glare at the other man, but then his lips curl into sneering smirk. He calmly takes his leave, but not before casting one last telling look to Thyma. Meis wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her in closely, and giving the man one final warning glare. With that Reus moves on away from the park.

“You okay?” Meis asks.

“I'll be alright.” She replies softly, the tension she holds slowly easing away. “Thank you.”

The taller man offers a gentle smile, but the moment is broken when aloud “Ahem” is heard. The pair look to Lio, his arm crossed with an expectant look.

“Did you two forget to tell me something?”

Looking around at the crowd of Mad Burnish, many gave approving nods and smiles, some remarking how they didn't know Meis and Thyma were dating. Suddenly the two become aware of how the scene looks to the others. Meis quickly removes his arm, while the fluffy-haired woman blushes furiously.

“It's not what it looks like Boss.” Thyma stammered.

“Yeah we--” Meis stops short when notices Gueira's head peeking from the edge of the truck. “Thyma, could you explain things to the Boss, my patient is trying to escape.”

Meis strolls over to Gueira, who weakly scrambles back onto the cardboard mat, attempting to pretend to be asleep. Meis carefully approaches the “sleeping” man, and looks over him with reserved suspicion. Quietly, he squats over Gueira and lets out a silent but deadly fart. Within seconds Gueira is gagging at the horribly, rotten smell filling his nose.

“You dick! Is this how you treat sick people!?” He screeches, fanning his face.

“Only when they don't rest like they're supposed to.” Meis replies flatly.

“I just wanted to see if Thyma was alright.” He admitted. “I overheard a little so...”

The long-haired man offers a quiet smile. “She'll be fine, just her shitty ex causing problems, nothing I can't handle. You just worry about resting up.”

Gueira nods and settles back on the mat. The sound of clacking of boots faintly exit the truck, leaving the red-head with his thoughts. Before he showed up to help out, he told himself he wouldn't get bummed out if he saw Thyma and Meis get lovey-dovey. The gloom that sat like a heavy rock in his gut said otherwise. He quietly tells himself to get over it, this was something he was just going to have to accept.

The food drive carried on peacefully, until a police car approached the park, causing all the Mad Burnish to go into high alert, because everyone knew the Mad Burnish and the police, don't mix. The towering officer steps out of the car, with a smile that spelled trouble, Vulcan Haestus. The man held a violent reputation, one that included harassing and running over Mad Burnish with his police car, anytime he showed up trouble was bound to follow him. Lio gives the Mad Burnish a look that says to be ready for anything, and immediately marches over to the cop, Meis right behind him.

“What do you want Vulcan?” Lio questions calmly, not bothering to hide his contempt.

“I got a call about Mad Burnish causing trouble in the park.”

Meis remembers the troubling smile he saw on Reus earlier and already knew he was the one who called the cops, the bastard.

“As you can see, they were wrong, we are merely carrying out our food drive, of which we have permits to be here and distribute food.” Lio hands over the paperwork, knowing it's a vain effort.

Vulcan glances over the paperwork, and rips it to shreds. “I'm declaring this gathering unlawful. You and your lot have 20 minutes to disperse along with taking down your little set up, or you can expect some crowd control to show up.”

“You bastard!”

“Tick-tock, you little shit.” He emphasizes tapping his watch, as he radios for back up.

Visible rage radiates from Lio and Meis, they would all rather stand their ground, however there are innocent people here who are just trying to take food back home to families. As much as they hate to do it, they have to leave, and quickly.

Lio calls out to the others to start clearing out, defeated anger in his voice. Hastily the Mad Burnish begin handing out remaining food to people still in line, and storing food back into trucks. Gueira watches helplessly as the others rush to clear out, outraged by Vulcan and at himself for being too weak to help. Vulcan was never to be trusted, and they all knew at any moment he could give the call, even with innocent people around. He wracks his brain for any way to help. He notices the truck he's in is particularly lengthy, and an idea hits.

Ten minutes pass and more police show up, lined up and clad in defensive gear, a heavy air befalls the gang as tensions mount.

“Galo! Make sure to get these people away from here!” Lio orders. Galo doesn't waste a second as he, and other Burnish herd people away from the park.

Vulcan looks on amused at the scrambling Burnish, like a cat toying with its weakened prey. He raises his hand to signal the ready, but a rapidly approaching beeping sound distracts him, from following through. An 18-wheeler quickly reverses in front of the lined up force, with Gueira in the driver's seat. Another truck lines up beside Gueira with another Burnish at its helm, both trucks effectively creating a barrier between the police and the Burnish.

“Hey! Get the shit in the trucks!” Gueria cries out. “No time to worry about it lookin' pretty!”

“You heard the man!” Meis commands, throwing whatever he can get his hands on in the truck.

Haphazardly everyone starts tossing things in the truck, boxes, food, and even a whole stall gets shoved in there. Within minutes Mad Burnish piled into the trucks, along with the other cargo. The trucks hurriedly take off, leaving the police lined up in riot gear in an empty park.

As the park disappears into the horizon, Meis sees Thyma sitting among the boxes and food, knees to her chest, face hidden. Meis maneuvers over to the hidden woman, taking a seat beside her.

“You want me to stay over tonight?” He offered. Without moving, she tentatively nods her head.

He hears her muffled sniffling, and cautiously he gently pets her back. “If you're blaming yourself, don't.”

She knows that, and just like she knows Reus, he knows how to get under her skin. She was aware Reus purposely called the police just to cause trouble, but more than that she knows it was meant to show her how fruitless hiding behind the Mad Burnish was. Until now, she didn't think about how long she would have to keep up the charade. A small part of her hoped Reus would just get scared and leave her alone, wishful thinking indeed. Now she knows it's just a matter of time until her life is ruined once more.

A gentle weight rests around her, the familiar feeling of Meis' arm around her huddled form, his head resting against her's. She simultaneously hates and loves this. The fluffy-haired woman wishes she could have this tenderness from Meis without the condition of a stalker ex. She wanted Meis to spend the night for more romantic intentions, instead of keeping guard over her. Again the wishful thinking, hoped Meis would develop feelings for her during this act they put on. She knew better, and she also knew Meis harbored feelings for someone else, even if had not realized it yet.

–

The afternoon slowly creeps to reach its peak sun in the sky. Below its heated glow, two men ride out into the desert many miles away from the city. Meis close behind Gueira as he leads the way to a place he swears 'has the best dirt riding course you've ever seen'.

A rest stop comes into view over the horizon, and Gueira pulls into the parking lot with Meis following suit. It was one of those combination gas stations with a retro style diner attached to its side. Along with the restaurant was a food truck parked nearby the gas pumps, and line gatcha machines lined up on the outside of the restaurant. The place had an odd tourist trap feel to it, despite the fact that there were barely any people around.

Gueira suggests that they fuel up, stomach-wise and bike-wise, since their destination was still a bit of a ways off. The long-haired man agrees and the two head in the restaurant, but not before the fluffy-haired man has a go at the gatcha machines.

“Oh awesome! These weren't here the last time!” Gueira exclaims excitedly surveying the row of machines. He doesn't catch the fond smile Meis held while watching him getting excited over gatcha toys.

Gueira decides on a machine that advertised itself as a 'Mystery Gatcha', which Meis determined to be a machine that had a whole bunch of toys that didn't sell thrown into it. His companion was unperturbed by it, and gleefully fed a few coins into the machine. He cranks the dial and two toys pop out instead of one.

“Hell yeah! Meis look! I got two of 'em!” The red-head holds up his winnings with a cute cat-like smile plastered on his face.

His enthusiasm was contagious, and Meis decided to give the machine a whirl for the hell of it. Money is once again fed into the machine, the dial is turned, and another two capsules pop out.

“Huh, guess the owner rigged the machine to be generous, they really want to get rid of these things.” Meis surmised taking his prizes.

“Oh hell yeah! I'm getting more if that's the case.” Gueira again eagerly feeds the machine and another two capsules pop out. He is about to sacrifice more money until Meis grabs him by the scruff of his collar and hauls into the restaurant.

“Save some for the kids you dork.”

The two are seated immediately inside the diner, and get their orders taken, while they wait Gueira chooses to crack open his capsules. His spoils included three tiny figurine mechs from a newly rebooted anime he watched as a kid, and some weird egg thing. The red-head was pleased with his winnings and urged Meis to open his. His first capsules reveal a mech figurine from the same show, and apparently Gueira's favorite character.

“You got Amimi! I loved him!” He gasps loud enough for the waitress to cast a concerned glance.

The dark-haired man examines the little hulking black figurine, giving its two horns a gentle tap. He looks back and could see Gueira's eyes dance with want for the toy. Meis smirks and places the toy on the table, pushing towards the other man. “Here you can have him, I liked D'Lalas more anyway.”

“Oh I could tell. Your helmet looks almost like his you fuckin' weeb—OW!” A steel-toed boot to the shin cuts the red-head's teasing short.

Yes, Meis did base his helmet design on his favorite character. Yes, he also did a dual strip routine with Lio based on D'Lalas and Riotted (Lio's favorite), but that did not make him a weeb. Nope, not one bit.

The fluffy-haired man quickly recovers and happily Gueira grabs the toys, marveling in its tiny glory. A broad, cheesy smile again that was once directed at the toy was now aimed at Meis. “Thanks man, I'll be sure to keep him somewhere safe.”

For a moment Meis feels a tug at his heartstrings but, thinks nothing on it. He opens his other capsule toy, inside is a cute strawberry bracelet.

“Heh, cute. I'm sure Thyma like would this.” The dark-haired man mused out loud, placing the prize back in its capsule. When his eyes meet Gueira's, for a moment, he swears he sees the other man's expression cloud. Before he has a chance to ask if the other was okay their food is brought out. Whatever questionable expression he had was wiped away by the arrival of food.

Once more Meis watches the red-head happily devour his food with the same vigorous enthusiasm. He listens to Gueira's satisfied hums and watches food fill his cheeks with each bite. Once more a small smile stretches his lips, and again he feels his heart skip a beat at the cute sight.

Cute?

“ _Yeah, so much so Meis can't stop smiling when Gueira is less than 3 feet away from him.”_

Meis eyes widen in realization as Lio's words bring Meis thoughts to an abrupt stop.

Again he finds himself thinking Gueira is cute, and in a way he is. Fluffy, red hair, his droopy eyes, the way his lips curled much like a cat's, his dorky moments, and enthusiasm. It was all cute, therefore Gueira is cute, and there's nothing wrong with thinking another man was cute. It certainly didn't imply deeper feelings.

“Whah wong? Foo nah good?” Gueira questions, snapping Meis out of his thoughts.

“Huh? No, food's fine.” He waves it off, and starts on his meal, tucking those thoughts away to not be revisited later.

Their lunch is finished and the pair begin to head out. They mount their bikes and rev up, as they do Meis notices a cop car pulling up to the diner. He sees the car number, and anger rises. The policeman steps out of the car, and his blood boils. It was Vulcan.

The policeman doesn't notice the long-haired man staring daggers at him as he walks into the diner. Gueira begins to pull off, heading out to the road. Meis shoves his helmet on, gives the cop one more fiery glance, before following the red-head's lead, his fury still boiling in his gut.

After a while Gueira leads Meis off the road, and they follow an old trail into the wilderness of the dry, rocky desert. Soon the pair arrive at their destination, an abandoned construction site. Meis stops and removes his helmet to survey the area. The site was surrounded by gorgeous rock formations and hills crafted by nature itself, that led deeper into the canyons of the wilderness. Pits had been blasted into the parched ground, as well as into the rocks themselves, distorting their unique shapes. The steel girders were arranged in ascending piles near the skeleton of the structure.

Before the Meis ask his friend about the area, he hears the tell-tell sound of an ATV revving its engine. In a flash, Gueira took off into the frame of the would-have-been building. Meis watches the red-head drive up the ramps from the 1st to the 2nd floor. He rides the steel beam and launches himself onto the pile of girders, he bounces off the beams in descending order until he hits the ground, kicking up dust as he slides up to Meis.

When the dust clears Gueira's cocky grin challenges Meis out-do his stunt. With a confident 'hmph' the dark-haired man slams his helmet back on and revs his bike. He takes off into the building and follows the path set, but as he rides the beam, he pops a wheelie and rides the back tire from pile to pile. He lands on the ground but continues his wheelie, circling his friend, kicking up more dust in the process.

He finally stops, and pushes up his visor. “Was that all?” He taunts. “C'mon give me a real challenge.”

“Alright wiseass, let's see you beat this.” The tanned man snorts, and he takes towards the pit, ready to show off his off-roading prowess.

The two spend the afternoon into the evening out maneuvering the other, pulling off one crazy stunt after another. However, Meis had been hesitant on doing anything too crazy, after exceeding Gueira's first stunt, he had managed to serve back whatever the tanned man had to dish out, adding a little extra flair just to taunt him. After Gueira collapsed in the park the other day, he doesn't want to take too much of a risk. The red-head on the other hand, did not share that same sentiment.

“So, you see that beam up there?” He points out the old crane holding the large piece of metal overhead. “I'll ride up, hop the building, ride along it, launch off it, and land on the hill nearby.”

“Dude, no. That thing is at least 7 stories up.” The paler of the two protests, trying to hold down the tinge of panic in his voice.

“I can make it, no problem.”

“Dude. No.” Meis again firmly objects. Hearing the tone shift in his friend's voice, makes Gueira turn to face Meis with a rebellious look in his eyes. A silence takes hold as one stares down the other, building a thick tension in the air.

“Well too bad, I'm doing it.” Gueira defies, revving up his ATV.

Sensing that the other wasn't going to listen, Meis cuts in front of him, blocking his path with his bike.

“Dumbass! You wanna wind up splattered, out--”

Meis words go unheeded as Gueira quickly maneuvers around him. Unable to stop him, the long-haired man watches helplessly as his friend speeds up story after story, with a concentrated panic growing in his gut. The other reaches the height, momentum not slowing for a second as rides off the edge onto the beam suspended above. The beam dips with the weight of the landing, and from below Meis watches in horror as his friend struggles to stay balanced on his metal path. He continues on, the beam swaying precariously with its extra burden on it, while the crane creaks and groans in protest.

He nears the end of the metal beam, and just as Meis thought his heart couldn't drum in his chest any faster, Gueira slumps forwards, lifeless. The cable holding the beam shifts, plummeting down in rapid descent, tossing the rider off, and onto the hills.

“GUEIRA!” Meis cries out in a panic, rushing towards the steep hill. He watches his friend cruise down the hillside, still slumped over, and miraculously still seated on his 4-wheeler.

Meis stops the vehicle once its momentum slows, and quickly pulls Gueira off of it. He yanks his helmet, cradling the lifeless man in his arms. A thousand and one thoughts run through the pale man's head as he repeatedly calls out to his friend. They're in the middle of nowhere, and the phone reception is shitty. Could he get help in time? Could help arrive in time? Where's the nearest town? How bad was Gueira's health to start with? Did have a--

“BOO!”

“FUCK!” The startled man drops the other, and watches the once “passed out” man burst out in laughter.

“Aw man, I gotcha good didn't I—ungh!” Gueira wasn't laughing too much longer, as Meis' fist landed harshly against his jaw.

“THAT WEREN'T FUCKIN' FUNNY YOU ASSHOLE! YA'LL HAD ME THINKIN' YOU WAS DEAD OR SOME SHIT!”

“It was a joke, not a dick, don't take it so hard.” The red-head retorts, cradling his throbbing jaw. “And what are you getting all worried for? I was fine.”

“Well fuck me fer being concerned bout cha'! It's not like yer toothpick ass passed out the other day from movin' boxes or nothin'!”

“Is that why you've been askin' me if I was all right every 15 fuckin' minutes!? Wait! Have you've been pullin' punches on your stunts too?!”

“Yes, ya stupid fuck!”

Anger rises through Gueira's veins hearing that Meis was underestimating him this whole day. “So you think I'm weak too huh?!”

“That's not what I--!”

“Well guess what Meis?! I'm not! I don't need you tryin' to look after me and I don't need you babying me!”

“Ya know what?! Fine!” The silk-haired man, mounts his bike and revs the engine. “Ya'll don't like me tryin' ta look out fer ya!? Then y'all can drop dead in the damned rocks fer all I care!” He bellows, as it echoes off the rocks. He slips on his helmet and speeds away.

He swiftly navigates out unto the road, trying to put a sizable distance between himself and Gueira. His anger still burned fiercely in his veins, but underneath that was sadness as well. All he wanted to do was make sure his friend was alright, he had spent the whole day worried about him, trying to make sure we wasn't pushing himself again. He knew Gueira could handle himself fine, but considering he didn't know the extent of Gueira's condition, he chose to err on the side of caution.

Lot of good that did him.

“Ungrateful bastard.” He hisses, kicking up the engine some more, increasing his speed.

That bastard had the audacity to “collapse” and then get angry at him for being worried, then twist his words on top of that. Well, screw him. Gueira could stay mad for all he cared, and when he finally realized he was being an ass, he knew where to find Meis. At least he hoped, because at the end of the day, he didn't want to stay mad at him. For right now, he just wanted to feel the speed. However bright flashing lights, and blaring sirens decided to cut that experience short.

“Fuck!” He barks out, pulling over his bike.

Right off the bat Meis could tell there was something not right about the situation. Looking behind him, he knew that was a Promepolis police car, one that was way out of its jurisdiction. He remembers seeing that car at the diner earlier, meaning it could only be one person.

“Looks like I caught myself a speeder!” Vulcan calls out as he slams the door of his car.

The anger that was starting calm reignited itself anew within Meis. Of course it had to be that bastard, and knowing him this wasn't going to end well. Still, he wills himself to stay calm, and attempt to comply with the son of a bitch.

Vulcan saunters up to Meis, completely towering over him. “Well, well you're in a hurry. Clocked you in at going about 30 over the speed limit.”

“Sorry.” The rider said shortly and calmly, helmet nestled over his head.

Vulcan eyes him up and down, like a predator sizing up its prey. “What's with the helmet.” He asks, mockingly grabbing the horn that rested on the forehead, jostling Meis head around. “You look like one of Mad Burnish shitheads.”

Meis yanks his head away, still trying to keep some semblance of an even tone to his voice. “Did you need my license officer, or were you going to let me go with a warning?”

“Huh, you would like that wouldn't you?” The bulky cop sneers. “Up on your feet, need to check to see if you're carrying any contraband.”

Meis debated internally whether to continue to follow through or tell this guy to kiss his ass. Ultimately, he decided to go along with it, as second in command of the Mad Burnish he needed to make sure to uphold the good in their reputation.

Standing with his arms and legs apart, he lets the officer pat him down, helmet still in place. A large hand roughly grip and rub across his body, sending unpleasant waves rolling across his frame and churning his stomach, he was going to take a boiling shower after this. This went on for longer than Meis deemed necessary, as Vulcan hands began to linger in places he'd rather them not.

“You find what you need, officer?” Meis asks annoyed. Vulcan pauses his motions, slowly stands to meet his ferocious glare at Meis' visor, his figure looming imposingly over the smaller man.

“I don't like your attitude you little shit.” He growls.

“And I don't like you groping me, looks like we're both in an unpleasant situation.” The smaller man counters coldly. “If you haven't found anything out of the ordinary, then I'd like to be on my way.”

Harshly he's gripped by his shirt, the large officer pulling him up, leaving Meis to stand on the tips of his toes. “Listen here you son of a bitch, I'm calling the shots here. So if you don't want to wind up in deep shit, you better do what I say.”

“Is that so?” Meis huffs out a humorless laugh. “So if I do what you say, you won't run me over like you did my friends you cowardly cockless shit stain.”

All the air is forced out of his body when a heavy fist slams into his gut. He crumples to the ground, heaving and coughing. A heavy boot stomps into his back, over and over again, sending shocks of pain along his back. The overbearing weight of Vulcan keeps him forced to the ground, as he curses himself for letting the bastard get the upper hand. He was going to die here, and left for the buzzards to pick at his corpse. 

In the distance Meis' swears he hears Miami's engines rev, but decides that just his hopeful mind playing tricks, but then sounds of the engine get closer. Vulcan was too caught up in his violent tirade to notice the ATV barreling towards him. Screeching brakes resound, and the bike sails into the heft police officer, sending him a flying few feet away. Meis begins to collect himself, heaving, and coughing once more.

“Take that you fuckin' asshole!” Gueira snarls at the policeman. From the ground, Meis looks at Gueira, eyes shining with weary admiration behind his helmet. The sight of Gueira confidently and boldly mounted on his monstrous ATV, had him thinking one thought.

_“_ _Gueira looks so fuckin' cool.”_

Quickly the red-head dismounts his bike, rushing to Meis' side. “Are you okay?” He asked, worried, caught in his voice. He soon notices the wound on the other's shoulder, and his tone shifts into anger. 

“I'm fine.” The dark-haired man groans, trying to rise to his feet, wincing in pain as he clutches his shoulder.

“You little shits!” The pair turn to see Vulcan also trying to get back on his feet, his rage coming off him in waves. The man was built like a wall of cinder blocks, which probably kept him alive, pity.

“Fuck! We gotta move!” Meis quickly mounts his bike, his friend doing the same, and the pair take off.

It doesn't take long for Vulcan to catch up with Gueira and Meis, soon the officer is steadily closing the gap between him and the pair of bikes. Meis could see the headlights of the car getting brighter and brighter, and without warning, he made a sharp turn off the road and into the wilderness, Gueira right behind him. The car skids into a drift before straightening itself out and continuing the pursuit.

Clouds of dirt kick up behind the pair of cyclists, no doubt making it difficult for their pursuer to maintain the chase. Meis looks to his side at Gueira who looks back at him, and with a nod, silk-haired man slows down a bit. Gueira catches on to what Meis is planning, and slows down as well. The two part the way, and the car speeds past them all together. When the dust clears, Vulcan looks into the rearview mirror to see the fugitives trailing behind him, mocking him with waves and rude gestures.

The car comes to a screeching halt and is immediately thrown into reverse. Meis and Gueira quickly move out of the way, diverting into opposite directions, a bad move. Making a sharp turn, Vulcan sets his sights on Gueira. The biker looks back to see the policeman closing in on him, panic surges through his body as he pleads with Miami to go faster. His pleas go unheard as the car rams into the back of his ATV, spinning him out of control. Before he could rein the 4-wheeler back in control, the car rams into him again, throwing him off.

Gueira violently tumbles across the unforgiving desert terrain until he finally skids to a stop. He groans wearily, pain surging throughout his body as he slowly stands. Nothing felt broken thankfully, but as he was counting his blessings, the headlights of Vulcan's car stared him down. Gueira's eyes widened in horror as he watched the car begin closing in on its prey, and though his mind screamed at him to run, his legs refused to move. This was it.

“GUEIRA!”

The red eyes snapped over to the source of the voice, a dirt bike was coming in hot, with Meis at the helm. Without stopping Meis swiftly gathers his friend, who gratefully clung his back, as they sped off. Vulcan again swerves the car to once again give chase to the two men. They couldn't out run the bastard for too much longer, they had to shake him and fast. Meis barely catches the sign that warns of an upcoming poisonous cactus field and an idea forms.

“Hey Gueira! Do you trust me?”

There's a short pause, but Gueira responds with, “Hell yeah I do!”

Over the horizon the field of cacti and rock formations come into view, Vulcan still is in pursuit, Meis lures him in just a little more, putting a good distance between them. Just before he runs into the field, he does a skillfully sharp U-turn, and charges headfirst towards the vehicle. Meis continues to pick up speed with Gueira cheering wildly in his ear, only furthering the adrenaline to pump through his veins as he smiles wildly behind his helmet. The two vehicles speed towards their collision course with neither side backing down.

Closer.

Closer.

Just before the car could collide into the two men, the bike jumps onto the hood of the car. Skillfully Meis rides along the length of the vehicle, safely landing while the Vulcan carries himself straight into the trap before him. The pair skid to a halt to watch the horrible bastard speed into the cactus field. The popping of tires is heard as the car swerves out of control only to finally slam into the side of a towering column of rock.

“Oooooh.” The pair winced in unison from a distance.

No commotion comes from the wrecked vehicle, save for the steady warbled honk from the broken horn. A moment passed, nothing from the car.

“Think he died?” Gueira asks unconcerned.

“Probably.” Meis shrugs.

As if on cue, the police car door flies open, and a haggard Vulcan stumbles out, swearing profusely as he is met with cactus needles. To add insult to injury, the top portion of the rocky column cracks and a huge chunk lands on top of the car with a metal twisting crunch. Vulcan narrowly avoids death, but not the large cactus that heavily plops onto him, trapping him under its massive weight, poisonous needles piercing his flesh.

The Mad Burnish pair laugh wildly as they watch misfortune befall the awful man. They whoop and holler into the night, Meis' bike roars victoriously, as they leave him behind for God and nature to decide his fate.

\--

Night settles into the sky, the light of the moon bathing the desert below. After Miami is retrieved and the two find reprieve a good distance away from the asshole cop. The men settle themselves on top of a fairly tall, cool, flat rock with Gueira checking over Meis' wound.

“Anything feel broken?’ Gueira asks, putting light pressure against Meis’ back.

“Might be something cracked, but I doubt if it's anything serious.” He winces as Gueira presses a particularly tender area. “Still I’ll be fine, it ain’t the first time a cop has busted my ass.”

“Same.” Gueira replies. He pauses for a moment, his hands slipping away into his lap, as his mind reels back to old memories of his teenage years. Meis takes notice of the silence, it spoke louder than Gueira's own words.

“I'm certain it wasn't the same for you, as it was for me.” The long-haired man responded, pulling cigarettes from his pocket.

“I mean I caused trouble as a kid, I can admit that much, but not all the time, you know?” He shrugs. “Still, trouble seems to find me, or rather trouble decides I'm the perfect target.”

Silence blankets the conversation again, disrupted only by the chattering of the creatures of the night. Meis lights his cigarette and takes a drag. “If trouble finds you again, I'll make sure to be there, however you need me.”

Gueira chuckles dryly. “What, you gonna ride in and scoop me up again?”

“Would you rather me not?”

“If I'm about to get ran over again I'll take whatever I can get! Even if it’s you clad in your cowboy get up riding a clown car!”

Laughter explodes from Meis, Gueira following suit, soon their shared laughter echoes into the cool desert air, warming the mood. 

“But seriously that was fuckin' cool!” The fluffy-haired man beams. “Seriously the way you scooped me up and then jumped that bastard's car! Like holy shit man, you're definitely Mad Burnish!”

“Damn straight I am!” The silk-haired man proclaims proudly into the night sky. “And so are you dude! The way you rammed into that bastard like that! Classic Mad Burnish!”

Gueira rubs the back of his fluffy head, grinning widely, bathing happily his Meis' praises. “You saved my ass back there, I thought that asshole was gonna beat me and leave me in the desert for dead.”

'Yeah, well...” Gueira pauses and sighs, face turning somber. “You probably wouldn't have gotten caught by him had it not been for me.”

Meis is about to ask what he meant until he remembers earlier.

“Meis, I'm sorry for freaking you out earlier, and blowin' up at ya.” He pauses again, looking up at the moon. “It's just everyone treats me like I'm a dyin' old man when they figure out I'm...” He stops his words short, his brow furrows in frustration as he gathers a stray rock in his hand.

“Not in the best health?” Meis completes.

“Yeah that, and it pisses me off.” He roughly launches the rock into the expansive desert sands. “I lost out on a lot of good times as a kid because of it. So, I decided that I'm not gonna let my body or anyone else keep me from any more good times. I wanna live my life goddammit!”

Meis found himself amazed by the fiery man's equally fiery spirit. Although reckless, it was still very endearing and admirable, and it put a small smile on his face.

“That's fair.” He states plainly, tapping the butt of his cigarette.

“...but I guess having you worry about me and keeping me in check ain't a bad thing.” The red-head shrugs.

“Pfft, who said anything about me being worried about your dumbass?”

“ "Well fuck me fer being concerned bout cha'! ” The other mocks, exaggerating the accent, causing the other to blush. “Man, the Texas just jumped outta you back there.”

“Shut up!”

“Or what? You gonna hogtie me, cowboy?”

“You fuckin--!” Meis tackles the other man to the ground. A playful scuffle breaks out, with limbs entangled and dust kicked up. The pair roughly wrestle, both trying in earnest to pin the other whilst snarling and giggling.

“Aha! Gotcha, you dick!” Gueira manages to get Meis in a hold.

“Ah fuck! My shoulder!” The dark-haired man winces, causing the other to quickly release his hold.

Before he could apologize, Meis flips him on his back in one swift move, pinning and straddling his opponent to keep him still.

His grip keeps Gueira's hand firmly in place on either side of his head as he looms over the other man with a cocky, toothy grin. “Not so fun being tricked like that, hmmm?” He pants, whipping his head to throw his wild hair back in place.

Gueira lays there stunned at the beautiful sight, highlighted gorgeously by moonlight and shimmering trails of stars. Meis' looming over him with that sexy, sharp smile, plush ass straddling hips, strength keeping him firmly in place, and the way he slung his hair over his shoulders. The pinned man gulps down the lump in his throat, and tries to will away his boner.

From above Meis is engrossed in droopy, crimson eyes that held so much fire and glowed in the moon's light. His gazed traces handsome features, framed by fluffy, wild hair. He doesn't notice himself inching carefully towards the man below, his mind still wrapped in thoughts of Gueira. Thoughts of his brash and bold nature, cuteness, and bravery. Pale fingers entwine with tanned, rough ones, encouraging the desire to discover how his lips would feel against his own.

His lips against..

Meis' thoughts come to a screeching halt at the realization of his lips just barely touching Gueira's. The situation of what was happening sinks fully, he was about to kiss his friend. Meis launches himself off the other, eyes wide in shock, his face and ears burning of embarrassment.

The sounds of desert creatures echo in the night, cutting through the shared awkward silence between the two. Meis scrambles with his thought trying to find words, any words to save face.

“G-Gotcha again asshole!” He feigns, putting on his best joking expression, forcing a convincing laugh to sell the faux prank even more. Gueira finally laughs uncomfortably, dusting himself off a bit.

“W-Well, I gotta get going.” He continues quickly, clumsily getting on his feet. “Things to do tomorrow, uh, Mad Burnish leader stuff ya know. I had fun, see ya later dude.”

Gueira watches the man practically jog to his bike, and take off into the night. The bike disappears over the horizon, and the wilder man flops on back. A million conflicting thoughts, along with a plethora of confusing feelings swam around in him, frustrating him more and more with each second.

He screams streams of obscenities into the night, and a coyote howls in solidarity.

–

Meis trudges through the door at a late hour, his thoughts and emotions still jumbled up in a confusing mix. He was so caught up in his own head, he had not noticed Lio rummaging in the kitchen for a late-night snack.

“Welcome home.”

“Nothing happened!” Meis blurts out, catching his friend off guard.

“...okay.” The blonde says warily. “So nothing happened?”

“I mean, things happened.” Meis collects himself and continues calmly. “Gueira and I went riding, we did some tricks, ran into Vulcan, kicked his ass--”

“Wait, you did what?!”

Meis recalls the day's events to Lio, going into great detail about the chase, his voice lulling into a fond softness when he mentions Gueira saving him.

“Damn, I wish I could've been there to give that bastard a piece of my mind and my boot.” Lio thinks wistfully, unwrapping a Hostess cake. “But sounds like Gueira came for you in a pinch.”

“Yeah, and did it so fuckin' cool too. Anyway, after we left the bastard, he looked over my shoulder, and he did apologize...”

Lio hums in approval after taking a bite from his treat.

“And then we--” Meis stops short, his mind remembering what almost happened, his face blushes instinctively.

“Looking kind of red there Meis.” A teasing grin creeps its way onto Lio's face, leaning forward in interest. “So, what _did_ happen after that?”

“N-Nothing, just came back home.”

“After you kissed him and confessed you undying love for him.” The smaller taunts, grin growing wider.

“Like hell I did.” He retorts, grabbing the box of cakes from Lio's side.

“Come on Meis, it's obvious you have a crush on him.”

“Is that so?” He scoffs as he unwraps a cake.

“Yeah, smile a lot more when you're him.” The blonde counters, crossing his legs as numbers off more with his fingers. “You talk more, and seem very relaxed when he's around. Overall you are just happier around him.”

“That's ‘cause Gueira is fun to be around, everyone at the bar would probably say the same.”

“Alright then, how do you feel around him?” Lio questions crossing his arms.

Meis hesitates to answer, it's something he never really thought about or cared to think about. He likes Gueira as a person, and considers him a friend. However, being around Gueira wasn't the same as it was like with Lio or Thyma. Then what was it like?

“I feel at ease around him. It's not quite the same when I'm around you guys.” Lio speaks up again, his voice filled with tenderness. “I feel like I can be Lio Fotia, and not just Lio Fotia threatening leader of the Mad Burnish, or Detroit the seductive dancer and owner of Promare. I feel his fire driving me, making me want to burn hotter and brighter. He's an idiot for sure, but I just like being around him, I like it a lot.”

Meis sits with a silent fondness, watching his friend smile so serenely talking about Galo. The buffoon had really snared his heart.

Oh.

Did he look and sound like talking about Gueira?

“Well, I'm heading to bed.” He starts towards his room, before he steps inside, he gives Meis a serious look. “You better clean and get that wound checked, bright and early.” He demands earnestly, and steps into his room, door clicking behind him.

Meis decides to do the same, Lio's question still echoing in his mind. He flops on his bed, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling. How _did_ he feel around Gueira? Was it the same way Lio felt around Galo? He did feel at ease around him, certainly felt happy, and always enjoyed his company. But what about romantically?

He allows himself to imagine Gueira holding his hand, offering a bashful smile. There was an unmistakable thrum in his chest but, he wills himself to stay composed. Next he imagines themselves curled up on the couch, watching a movie maybe, Gueira's fluffy head in his lap or on his shoulder. The same sensation bubbles in his heart once more, leaving a pleasant warmth that spreads through him. Again he wills himself to calm down. Finally, he lets his thoughts linger on the almost kiss from earlier. He plays back everything, but this time he envisions his lips resting gently against Gueira's. He regrets doing that, it was embarrassing, way too embarrassing to even think about. He buries his face in Marlo, his heart is going a mile a minute, and heat fiercely resonates throughout his body.

Oh.

Oh no.

Suddenly, his mind floods with past interaction with his “friend”. All those smiles, all those laughs, the lingering glances, the passing thoughts, the teasing kiss on the cheek, the frequent warmth, the everything. When did he start feeling like this? How long had he felt like this? Why was he just now realizing this?

He yelps, the phone buzzing in his pocket startles him out of his spiraling thoughts. It's a message from Gueira, the last person he wants to think about right now. He opens the message. Meis' heart melts.

Gueira: Everyone made it back safely.

Attached was a selfie with him smiling brightly, with his recently gotten gatcha toys, and the rest of his collection. That smile, that stupid, cute, wonderful smile. And he had a collection of those things. Damn him, damn him for being endearingly dorky, it was too cute. This was completely unfair. Meis tosses his phone to the floor, and retreats back into Marlo's comforts. Only to chuck Marlo away from his person, after recalling who gifted him the shark. He buries his face into his hands, sighing resignedly.

He has a crush on Gueira. That fluffy-haired bastard had wormed his way into his heart, without Meis realizing it, until now. So, now what?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Meis had a strict policy against dating and/or fucking the patrons at the club. Besides, it was just a crush, Meis had crushes before, albeit sometime ago. A crush would go away naturally, then his feelings towards Gueira would settle back to 'very good friend', and all would be right with the world. At least he hoped.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got that reference at the beginning, you are royalty.
> 
> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin


	8. Deconstruction Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you overcome new and old feelings? Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. The world is still on fire, but what else is new. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

Having a crush on someone was a special kind of pleasant torture. Suddenly you're more aware of everything they do and say. Every touch, every word, filled you with an uncontrollable, overwhelming joy, making it damn near impossible to say cool around them. Meis was a person that was known for staying cool, even in the most perilous of situations, and yet Gueira managed to test that without even trying.

Every time they hung out after Meis' shift was an exercise in keeping your cool and not look like a damn fool. Every smile from Gueira made Meis smile in turn, filling his heart with a delightful warmth. He'd even occasionally pick-up gatchas just to see the look of pure joy on his face. Boundaries of Meis' personal space slowly crumbled around Gueira. He would let the red-head lean against him, wrap his arm around his shoulders, pat his back, and in turn Meis returned the gesture, and even would find any excuse to ruffle that soft, pillowy mop of red hair.

His thoughts always somehow wound up back on Gueira. The color red? Gueira. The sound of a revving engine? Gueira. Anything that looked remotely fluffy? Gueira. Even Mavis' furry eight legs were starting to trigger thoughts of the man! However, in the pleasant whirlwind of romantic feelings, there were the uncomfortable moments, namely stripping in front of your crush.

Like any other night, Meis would command the stage. The crowd would gaze lustfully as he twisted sensuously around the pole; however, when his eyes laid upon Gueira cheering happily in the crowd, there was a pang of mixed emotions blooming in his gut. Suddenly, he hesitated. Meis didn't want to get naked, at least not in front Gueira, which was crazy. Why now? Why all of the sudden? He hadn't felt performance since anxiety his first time on stage. Such a hindrance soon started to eat away at his tips, meaning it was time to do something about it. Meis had two ways of solving problems, suck it up and do it; or get drunk and do it.

He decided with a little planning that the first option would go smoothly, of which was a little exposure therapy under the guise of a private dance. Of course, getting Gueira to agree to a private dance was the easy part. The difficulty came in the form of heavy nerves that rose with every step as he approached the private booth. With a deep breath, Meis pushed passed his nerves with a deep breath, and stepped into the room.

“Howdy cowboy.” Gueira greets with the cheesiest southern accent as he tips his imaginary hat, reclined lazily on the couch.

Damn this idiot for being adorkable when Meis needed it, 'cause it gets a chuckle out of him, melting away frazzled nerves.

“Howdy yourself.,” He strides over to the other, until he's standing over him.

“Now don't tell me you had me spend all this money just for some one-on-one time with me.” The red-head asked, still playing up the accent.

“Pff, you wish,” Meis scoffs. He goes to explain that he has a new routine he wants to try out and needs a more objective opinion. The other agrees, unaware of the half-truth, and ulterior motive.

The music starts and Meis begins gliding gracefully around the pole. His hips gyrate to the rhythm, bending over to have his ass in full view, and snapping back up with a gentle roll of his body. He kicks up a slender leg, with a smooth motion, hooks it, and the other around the pole, slowly twirling around the metal rod as he sinks to the floor. When his knees hit the floor, Meis' hand slowly moves up his torso, slim fingers catch the zipper of his vest, and inch by inch the zipper drags down, revealing a lovely, pale, glittering chest with pert, peachy nipples underneath.

He tosses the vest aside and his heart thunders in his ribs. He's only half exposed and is nowhere near done with the dance however, the anxiety he thought was gone rears its head once more. Ruby eyes gaze at him with a vested interest from a few feet away, only serving to only heighten his unease. Still, he slides his hands along his uncovered frame, fingers circling around his nipples, and for good measure, he gives them a playful pinch. He throws his head back for show, not bothering to acknowledge the small wave of arousal just now.

He rises to his feet, continuing to sway erotically to the beat. Once again he pulls off an elegant spin about the slim, metal pillar, and in a swift motion, he draws a faux six-shooter from the holster on his hip. He aims and pulls the trigger, a stream of water fires out of the barrel and hits Gueira square on his chest. The rust haired man dramatically clutches his chest and goes limp on the sofa, within the second he cracks open his eye with a cheeky smile. However, both eyes widen as he watches Meis' tongue glide slowly along the barrel of the gun, he kisses the tip before dragging the gun down his chest to holster it.

Watching Gueira go from playful to visibly gulping sparked a flame of power within Meis. He leans in the feeling of tepid confidence, grinding and swinging his hips with more assurance. Carefully he begins to undo the chaps that clung tightly against his bottom half. While bent over once more, he gradually lowers the garment to reveal a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. Again he feels his nerves churning his gut, now more naked than before, but sees Gueira gulp again and awkwardly cross his legs. He knows the tanned man is definitely feeling affected by his dancing, it spurred that flame to burn hotter and brighter. It is then Meis realizes he's more in control than he thought.

On stage when Dallas began, Meis ended, his crush and other personal feelings could be left in the dressing room. He became Dallas, the raunchy rhinestone cowboy, there to sell a fantasy and rake in the cash. And should Gueira happen to be in the audience, then he's going to make Gueira feel conflicted about if that was the case. Dallas could care less.

He kicks the chaps aside and hops off the stage to prowl towards his one-man audience. As he closes the gap between them a predatory smile stretches his lips, he watches maroon eyes gaze helplessly as looms above his crush.

“Meis...” He hears the other eeks out. He wags his finger as tuts the man. He leans in until he's eye level.

“Y'all know better than that.” He chides in his Texas drawl low and deep. Swiftly he pulls the six-shooter pointing the barrel against the fluffy-haired man's scruffy chin. “Name's Dallas, hon'. Got it?”

Gueira nods dumbly, eyes wide with lustful awe.

“Good, now then, I need ta’ see if that horse of yer's is worthy of my ass. Spread 'em.” He commands, gun still pressed gently against the other man's chin.

“Yes sir,” He gulps and without a second thought, Gueira spreads his legs apart, like a throne waiting for its king, or in this case a horse waiting for its rider.

“Good boy, Gueira.” He purrs hotly in the man's ear, watching his face twist to suppress a shudder. Meis himself again ignored the burning flame of arousal in his own body.

The dancer picks up where he left off, with the now added lap dance into the mix. Gueria now had a full view of Meis as he watched the dancer writhe rhythmically to the music. He bends over and snaps back again, lowering his hips with teasing rolls, just to barely grind his ass against the other's crotch. He coyly looks over his shoulder, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“Maybe if y'all 're sweet ta’ me, I'll ride you into the sunset.” He taunts, ass still bouncing and rolling a mere hair above a mounting erection.

“T-time out...” Gueira mutters.

“Beg pardon?”

“Time out, like for real.” His plea came a little more breathlessly, but a lot more urgent.

“Music stop!” The dancer commands, both lights and music come to a halt. Meis' face became visibly concerned, as Gueira seemed to be struggling. “Something wrong?”

“Um the thing is...” He pauses for a second, still fidgeting and looking a bit uncomfortable. “I really gotta take a shit. I've been holding it since you walked in.”

There's a short pause as Meis stares at the red-head with a blank expression.

“Left down the hall, then a right, you'll see the signs.”

“Thanks dude, I'll see you later at the bar.” With that Gueira rushes out the door.

The door shuts and Meis stands still for a moment before plopping down on the sofa. He holds his head in his hands, breathing out a heavy sigh, the outcome wasn't that unfavorable, but he finds himself embarrassed and more confused than before. Was Gueira's reaction really just him having massive shit in his ass? If that's the case, then his new tactic would be pointless, wouldn't it? Was dancing not sexy at all? Were Gueria's feelings towards Meis purely platonic now? Why did that thought make him sad?

“I am too old for this shit.” He grumbles to himself.

Nothing was really resolved, so a shot of whiskey before his set will have to do, probably.

–

Gueira scrambles to the bathroom, arousal tingling through his body, and dick straining in his pants. It took every ounce of willpower not to come on the spot when the dancer whispered hotly in his ear with that sinful accent of his. That willpower nearly shattered when Meis suggestively teased the thought of him riding his dick, all the while shaking his ass right over said dick.

The rusty haired man darts into the nearest stall, glad to see that they were completely walled off from another, so no one could hear what he was about to do. The minute the stall is locked, he gets to work on freeing his impatient cock. A sizable, wet spot soaked his boxers, it was a miracle that it hadn't seeped through his pants. Gueira sighs with relief as the cool air hits his throbbing member, as more pre-cum drips from the reddened tip.

He is about to spit in his hand, when he notices one of more the peculiar complementaries in the stall. Among the wet napkins and toilet seat covers, was a small basket filled with lube packets. He tears one open without the need for a second thought, smearing it on his palm and cock.

He leans over the toilet, hand working hastily around his hardened dick, his ears echoing the sultry vocals from only minutes ago.

“ _Spread 'em.”_

He quivers sweetly at the commanding voice, hand working faster at the thought spreading himself open to the gorgeous man with that dangerous smile looming over him.

“ _Maybe if y'all 're sweet ta’ me, I'll ride you into the sunset.”_

God he wants that, he wants that so badly. He strengthens his grip and jerks himself faster, trying to mimic the feel of Meis' tight hole clenched around him. Soft moans slip past his lips at the thought of the dancer bouncing relentlessly in his lap while whispering more praises against his ear.

“ _So sweet fer me”_ He hears rasp in a heady hushed tone. He fucks his hand in earnest, airy panting swelling throughout the stall.

“ _So good for me.”_ Sweet pleasure mounts higher at wanting to be sweet for Meis. He wants to be good for him. He wants to be a good boy, Meis' good boy.

“ _Good boy, Gueira.”_ He groans through pursed lips, a shuddering climax ripples through throbbing cock and tightening balls, traveling to tingling thighs. White hot release splatters messy into the bowl, as he steadily pumps his cock through orgasm.

He rests his head against the wall, after-glow soon giving way to the awkward, shameful reality of jerking it in a titty bar toilet stall, after your best friend just gave you a lap dance. He decided to save that guilt for when he got home, instead he tucks his dick away, and goes to thoroughly wash his hands of his dirty deed.

–

The pair meet back up again at the bar, but opt for the more quiet and subtle stench of the back of the club. Fortunately, the shared cigarette passed between them seemed to mask the smell. Their conversation carries on pleasantly. Gueira had a hard time looking Meis in the eye, but had an equally hard time keeping his eyes off of him. Meis was in the same boat for the most part, but was fine. The light awkward tension was fine, so long neither of them brought it up.

“So, about your dance earlier.” Gueira starts, pausing to take a hit of the cigarette.

“Yeah?” Meis would really rather forget the whole thing ever happened right about now.

“So, it was really, really good, like some dumb bastard is gonna wind up broke because of you. Really hate that I had to shit in the middle of it.”He commended.

“Well, when you gotta go...”, The paler man shrugs.

“And the bit with the six-shooter was awesome too. Might wanna make it a regular thing, ya know.”

“Hmh, well I do aim to please.” The ink-haired man preens with a cocky smirk, his hand stretched out for the cigarette.

“Yeah, and sorry about using your real name earlier, slipped up a bit. It's just that…,” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his head, handing Meis the cigarette without looking towards him. “It's just that...whether you're on stage or hanging out, or whatever...I guess, all I see is you, Meis.”

Damn him. Damn this sweet bastard of a man. Meis was thankful it was dark and Gueira wasn't looking, because he was certain that he was red as a firetruck right now. He takes a deep drag of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke and embarrassment, hoping the deep breath would catch his thundering heart.

“Heh, I give you half of a lap dance, and you turn into a simp on me? I really am damn good at what I do.”

“Oh, shaddup!” The other man bristles. “Just for that! I take back what I said! Your dancing is shit, and your ass looks flat in those booty shorts!” 

“Is that so? Last I checked you sure seemed to still enjoy me shaking my flat ass, because you sure do throw a lot of money at it.” He takes another drag, cocky smile growing wider.

“You're such an asshole.” Gueira grumbles, snatching the cigarette from Meis' fingers, and greedily inhaling the last of it.

While those earlier words were kind, it didn't make a difference. Even all Gueira could ever see was him, he'd always be Dallas on stage.

–

The night ends at Promare, Meis stays behind with Lio and Thyma to finish up some paperwork. Meis is in the bathroom when Thyma decides to put on some music, a top 40s playlist, the melody starts, and eases into a generic sounding alt-rock song. Lio was still focused on his task, not really paying too much attention to the music, but couldn't help to think that this band sounds familiar, as well as this song. The front-man starts singing, immediately Lio recognizes who that is, and now knows why that song sounds so familiar. Before Lio could ask Thyma to change the song Meis walks in.

He stops mid-motion as he's about to sit back down, his attention now the song coming from Thyma's phone. Thyma watches the lanky man steadily walk around to her side of the desk with a controlled, but vacant look in his eye. He calmly pauses the song, while his expression was still otherwise calm, but the other two could feel something was off.

“Boss, if you don't mind, I'm gonna take a quick smoke.” He states with an eerily threatening ease, heading back to the door.

“Wait, Meis, is som--”The harsh slam of the door cuts her off and rattles the walls.

“Boss, did I do something wrong?” She cautiously asks.

“No, it's nothing you did, it's just--” Lio sighs, pausing for a moment before continuing. “You remember how I mentioned a while back that Meis was in a band?”

She searches her memories for a minute, before replying. “Was that them?”

“Yes, and suppose I should explain.”

Thyma listens carefully as Lio tells the story of Meis' rise and fall in the music world, both unable to hear the repeated thud echoing faintly in the club. In the dressing rooms Meis harshly punches the lockers, his burning rage felt like it was combusting with each slam of his fist. He hits the locker with one last fierce punch, all is silent save for his ragged heavy breaths. The worst of his anger had subsided, yet his rage still roared like an incredible bonfire. He wills himself to calm down, reminding himself there was no need to lose his cool over something that happened years ago. A terrible lie really, but it would do. He collects himself finally, knuckles throbbing in pain, and returns back to the others.

Still, he never wanted to hear any songs by the band known as Silver Nail, ever again.

When he arrives back he's surprised to see Lio face-down at his desk, Thyma trying to console him.

“D-did something happen while I wa--”

Lio's head shoots up, eyes wide with scornful rage.“THAT FILTHY FUCKIN' BASTARD IS RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR!!!”

“Boss, please!” Thyma attempts to soothe raging mad beside her, knowing the words 'Calm down' would only make him angrier. She picks up her phone to show Meis. “You might want to have a look at this.”

Meis' face shifts from souring disbelief to contempt as he reads through the official Kray Foresight campaign website. The man promises to cleanse the city of corruption and filth, advocating for a ban on all sex work in the city, among other halfhearted lip services that politicians spout.

Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but Kray was a competent and dangerous man, if he says he'll do it, he will do it. Reading through the site again it was apparent all these promises were direct towards the eradication of the Mad Burnish. If there was any honor in Kray, he would help the communities the Mad Burnish aided. However, his charitable nature was merely a well-crafted facade, he only helped those he deemed worthy and those people were few and far in between.

“If this bastard thinks we'll roll over and die, he's going to be sorely disappointed.” Lio seethes, gritting his teeth. “I'm not going to let him do as he pleases.”

“You got a plan, Boss?” The lankier of the two asks.

“I've got options.” Lio knows he has to be careful, running into things chaotically could play more into that man's hands. “Right now, we have to play our cards carefully. For now, just be ready.”

Meis and Thyma exchange a look, their gaze cast to Lio as his rage morphs into contemplation.

–

Meis wasn't having the best week. His feelings for Gueira hadn't waned in the slightest, if anything they seemed to steadily grow by the day. He tells himself to not hang around him so often, but that was easier said than done. Kray Foresight announced his candidacy for governor of Promepolis. On top of all that, he learned that Silver Nail was in town playing a concert later that week, or rather, he knew but forgot. Knowing that those bastards were in town just put him in a bad mood altogether, but he would have to put those feelings aside. For now, it was Friday night at Promare, and Dallas along with his posse had VIP guests to entertain tonight. It wasn't unusual for guests to ask for more than one stripper at a time, although one male and 3 female strippers was a bit of an odd request.

“So, do we know who the VIP is?” Houston asks, as they all head to the private booth.

“No, I really didn't really bother to check.” Austin replies with a shrug.

“I mean, they paid all our tips upfront, so does it really matter?” San Antonio adds.

“Alright ladies, it's showtime.” Meis announces as they arrive at the door. Upon opening the door, he and the others are greeted by four guys, in varying stages of drunk. “Howdy, y'all!”

“Hell yeah! The strippers are here!” A silver blond, Wren, cheers while spilling a bit of his beer.

“Oh shit, they're all hot! Even the guy! Good picks, Lars!” A brunette, Moors, approved as he leers at the troupe of dancers.

“You know I got you—--wait, is that...?” The black-haired man, Lars, does a double-take, his eyes widen with surprise.

“Holy shit, it's Meis!”A tall ombre- haired man, Trad, calls out in shock, look of disbelief latent on his sharp features.

The room fell silent, with all eyes of the members of Silver Nail on Meis. The other dancers look on with discomfort to their veteran, realizing the nightmare scenario many a stripper dread, being found out by someone you know. Meis tries to keep his face as neutral as possible, as anger and unease swirl throughout his body. He wills himself to carry on, as if nothing is wrong, to get through this without causing a scene.

“I think y'all have me mistaken fellers. Name's Dallas.” He strolls in, straining to keep an air of nonchalant professionalism. “And this here is my posse, and we're here show y'all a good time, right ladies?”

He gestures to the girls, who catch on to the act and fall in line. They all began to pour on the 'Southern charm', introducing themselves and happily flirting with the band. Each girl soon settled upon the lap of the men, except Trad, who was without. Meis was not going to make this more awkward than it needed to be. The other members seem to be distracted for the moment until...

“So, how do y'all want us tonight?” Houston asks, sitting in Wren's lap. “We coul--”

“I wanna see Meis dance!” Lars blurts out excitedly.

“Dude, same! I gotta see this!” Wren agrees, eagerness apparent.

“C'mon Meis, work that pole!” Moors grinned.

He pushes down the boiling rage that threatened to burst through, instead sternly reminds the men, “Again boys, name’s Dallas.”

The four exchange confused looks before Trad continued to expose him. “Cut the shit Meis, we know it's you.”

Austin tries to break the mounting tension between the men, pressing her bosom against Moors, sweet seduction in her voice.“Now sug' we gots rules. If y'all can't be with sweet ole Dallas, then we can't be sweet ta y'all later.”

Unable to deny the beautiful woman on his lap, Moors, along with the rest of the band relents.“Alright fine, not sure what the big deal is, but whatever. Sorry 'Dallas', we'll be good. Promise.”

He scowls at the men, knowing those words didn't mean shit, but he supposes it'll have to do. The music starts and Meis begins to twirl around the pole that stood in the center of the room.

Their mocking cheers rang hollow in his ears. They howled with laughter anytime he tried something remotely sexy. He tries to drown them out, focusing on getting through the set without turning the booth into a crime scene. He really wishes Gueira was there, he'd honestly rather suffer through his awkward feelings and strip for him instead of these bastards.

“C'mon Me——er Dallas, let's see those goods.”

“And how 'bout a smile, yeah?”

Ah, that's right they paid everything upfront, tips included, meaning there was no withholding their request. Begrudgingly he complies, swallowing down his burning ire, he grits out a smile, and with minimal teasing removes his vest. One by one his clothes are removed as he attempts to put a good, but quick show. He ignores the 'Still as gangly as ever, huh.'; and the 'That ass is wasted on him.'; and the 'Looks like I'm still bigger.' Meis is down to his thong when Moors demands that he gives Trad a lap dance.

“C'mon, man.” Trad complains, a sour look on his face.

“I don't mind doing it hun, be nice to show you a good time for once.” San Antonio offers sweetly. However, the others insisted that it had to be Meis.

“It'll be funny, dude. Meis get over here and show old Trad a good time.” Wren orders.

He doesn't bother to correct them this time, using every ounce of his energy to put on a good show and quell his growing contempt. He strolls over with a strained pleasant expression, presenting his ass to his former bandmate. Just as he begins to get going the song changes. Oh yeah, that's right, VIPs can choose the music.

He slows his motions as it becomes apparent that it's one Silver Nails' songs, or rather one of Meis' old songs butchered and warped to be presented as one of their own. He couldn't dance to this, not to a song that held such personal meaning, not to a song that bared his soul. Meis' heart twisted painfully listening to it now, it felt bereft of any of its true spirit, he could hardly call it his anymore, but sadly, in some crooked fashion, it still was.

“C'mon cowboy! Show me how you ride a horse.” Meis doesn't register Moors' words, but the firm, harsh slap to his ass, shocking him out his thoughts. He yelps and stumbles over himself, landing face-first on the cold floor.

“Hey! You can't record in here you asshole!” San Antonio angrily calls out.

“Too late! I got the whole thing! And to the Cloud it goes!” Wren laughs.

There Meis laid still on the floor, head down, ass up, while the band's laughter roared throughout the booth. He vaguely hears Austin angrily chastise the men. It barely registers that Houston had rushed to his side. The vicious fury numbs the senses, deafening his reason, muddling all thoughts. He feels the screams and swears tear out of his throat. A person holds him back, then one more and then another. There's more screaming, he can't tell if it's himself, the girls, or the band. He thrashes about, hand's itching to unleash white-hot, repressed wrath, but the combined weight struggles against him. He breaks free, and knuckles land heavily against someone, he doesn't know who and doesn't care. Someone grabs him again, his vision whirls around him, the familiar lights and colors of the booth transition to those of the hall. He thrashes more against someone's firm grip, feet no longer touching the ground.

“Calm the fuck down man!” Varys' voice muffled urgently, hauling the furious man to the locker rooms. “Damn, your skinny ass is strong as hell.”

The flames of his fury continue to grow, traveling through his veins, making him inconsolable. Suddenly he feels all the air forced out of him, as someone punches him in the gut, he crumples to his knees. Finally, a swift, but painful strike lands against the back of his neck. The floor cools his burning body, and his vision blankets with darkness.

“I'm sorry Meis.” Lio voices with soft regret.

“Damn, they don't call y'all the Mad Burnish for no reason, huh?”

–

Meis awakens to the soft glow of the tanks in his room, and a gentle weight slowly moving against his back. Dull aches throb throughout his body, exhaustion still heavy in frame. Matilda's tiny head slithers into his vision, her tongue flickering, and her jaw widened as she yawns.

“Mornin' to you too, sweetheart.” He softly chuckles, voice still groggy and tired. The man adjusts the python to drape around his shoulders as he steadily sits up.

Somehow he made it home and got dressed, no, he figures Lio did that. The events of last night trickled back into his memory. He's not sure what to be more embarrassed about, having to strip in front of his old, yet successful band; or losing his shit and having to be hauled away, only for Lio to knock him out.

So much for leaving his personal feelings in the dressing room.

He pats around for his phone, finding nestled on the nightstand. The clock read that it was late into the afternoon and that he had three text notifications. One from Lio, another from Gueira, and one from Thyma.

Lio: Meis if you're reading this, I know what happened last night. Don't worry I've taken care of everything, but you're going to have to take the week off, starting today. We'll talk more later.

Thyma: Meis I heard what happened. Don't worry about your pay and tips. Me and Lio got that covered. Tess, Chrissy, and Millie asked about you too, they hope you're okay. Also they're also a little more afraid of you now. Don't hesitate to call if you want to talk.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. That didn't fill with relief like it was supposed to, as more shame crawled into his consciousness. He'd have to make it up to Lio later and the girls as well. He opens the message from Gueira, attached is a meme of a rubber chicken attached to a vacuum cleaner. The rising scream from the rubber bird makes Meis burst out in laughter.

Gueira: Missed you at the bar. Lio told me you were gonna take some time off. He wouldnt tell what happnd tho Talk to me when you feel better, k? 

A small smile stretches his lips. “I've got some good people in my life, huh girl.” He comments to Matilda, as gratitude wells up within him.

He looks to the corner of his room and an old sadness resurfaces. His instruments sit neatly arranged, neglected, with a thin layer covering of dust. It's been a while since he sang, he missed it, missed it terribly. Gone were the days of writing songs, hearing melodies and lyrics slowly take form, reworking them for weeks until perfected. He didn't care about his old band anymore, they could fuck off into oblivion, but the music, _that_ he still yearned for.

He'd never forgive those assholes for what they did, because of them, he found it difficult to find joy in music like he used to. The spark was still there though, a tenacious, little candle fire that refused to die. He felt it flicker that night he had that bottle thrown at him, it hasn't settled down, but it hasn't grown either.

He sighs heavily, and his stomach gurgles. He starts towards the door, but glances back to the corner once more.

He promised himself one day that he would play music again, for himself this time. The scars were old, but still tender. He hated them, the scars and the people who gave them. It burned him up inside to still be affected by it, and he swore that it would never rule over him. However, it takes time to heal. One day he would write music again, and dust off his guitars. He knew it would happen one day.

He just didn't think it would take so long. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin (18+ only). You're welcome to scream at me about my fic there. Other folks sure have. If you're of the shy sort, don't worry I'll set up a curiouscat somewhat soon.


	9. Retaliation Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how do you cheer up your crush? Like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. The world is still on fire, but what else is new. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

Gueira texted Meis daily just to make sure he was alright, however, according to Lio, he'd been rather solemn and listless as of late. He was still in the dark about what happened, but even then, he wanted to do something to help Meis. He cycled through his Instagram during lunch, but noticed something seemed off. Galo was quiet, and deep in thought, not a good sign.

“ I can smell the burning gears in your head, man. Talk to me.” He gently slaps Galo's back, distracting the larger man from his thoughts. Galo looks to his smaller friend with a hint of worry on his face.

“ Oh, well it's Lio. I think I made him mad.”

Galo went on to explain how they got into a conversation about Kray's announcement about running for governor. Lio was not in the least bit excited about it as he was; in fact he outright hated it and made no qualms about telling Galo exactly how he felt about the man. Needless to say, Galo did not agree and stood his ground to defend the Kray. Now Lio was being cold to him, only offering him rigid courtesy whenever he saw him.

“ That's rough buddy. And I hate to say it, but I agree with him.”

“ Seriously, you too?”

“ Listen man, I know ol' Foresight has been like pseudo family to you but, just because he's great to you doesn't mean he's great to everyone else.”

“ How can you say that after all the good he's done for the city. Honestly, both Lio and Prez do a lot of good for ci...ty..That's it!” The man excitedly jumps to his feet, spirit renewed and determination burning in his eyes.

“ Oh, Jesus...”

“ I just gotta get Prez to see that he and the Mad Burnish both want the same for the city. Hell, maybe they can work together on some things.”

Before Gueira could explain to Galo why that was a bad idea, he had already taken off, phone in hand to arrange a meeting. The tanned man could only sigh, knowing that was going to end badly, but somethings had to be learned the hard way. He decides to let that be for now, going back to scroll through Instagram to pass the time. An advertisement catches his eye and soon the gears in his own head begin turning.

_ Gueira: Hey let's hang out tomorrow _

_ Meis: Not really feelin it _

_ Gueira: Cmon please. I havent seen you in like forever _

_ Meis: Its been like 4 days _

_ Gueira: PLLLLZZZZZ itll be fun I promise _

_ Meis: Fine _

_ Gueira: YES Dont worry bout drivin Ill pick u up @ 11am _

_ Meis: You better not be late _

–

True to his word, Gueira arrives at the apartment on time. Soon Meis strolls out of the door, and Gueira's jaw drops behind his helmet. The other man was stunning; dark eye makeup stained his eyes expertly; clad in black, skinny, ripped jeans; a black, tattered crop-top hangs teasing off his shoulders with a mesh tank top underneath along with other accessories decorating his body.

Meis saddles up behind Gueira, slipping on his helmet. “So where are we going?”

It takes Gueira a minute to catch himself before he finally responds. “It's a surprise, so hang on.”

The pair speed off in the direction of downtown Promepolis, soon arriving at...

“ The Promepolis Museum of Natural History?” Meis questions as they stroll up to the electronic ticket kiosk. “Uhh Gueira, you promised me a good time.”

“ I did, just wait 'til we get inside,” He retorts, getting irritated with the machine not spitting out the tickets.

Once inside Gueira leads Meis through the museum. It was a bit noisy due to the children with parents excitedly pointing out everything they saw, including Meis. The pair stuck out amongst the conservatively dressed crowd, a punked out Gueira and gothed up Meis. Whatever Gueira had planned better be good, because he didn't get up today to be a spectacle for a bunch of normies.

“ Ta-dah!” Gueira gestures grandly to a section of the museum with a sign that read 'Now Open! Our New Entomology Exhibit! Over 300 Live Specimens! Over 500 Pinned Specimens!'

Meis quickly went from visibly unimpressed to eyes shining excitedly.. Before Gueira could brag, he's grabbed by the wrist and quickly dragged into the live specimen portion of the exhibit.

Meis drags Gueira to the section of various mantids, listening to the man gushing about each mantis species. He eagerly asks one of the handlers about holding one and after listening to their instructions, gently offers his hand into the Spiny Flower Mantis tank. Gueira takes the opportunity to snap a few photos, enamored with the gorgeous smile Meis had while holding the tiny insect.

The day carries on like that, Meis gleefully exploring the exhibit, springing up random facts about each insect and arachnid, Gueira always ready with the camera to take glamour shots of Meis holding the specimens. While the fluffy-haired man didn't care much about insects like his companion did, he couldn't help but be love struck by Meis' enthusiasm by it all. It was nice to see such a big, genuine smile plastered on his face the whole day. To see that side of Meis made this whole excursion worth it, and made him eager to new sides of the man that he was head-over-heels for.

They reach the end of the pinned specimen section, Meis still as bright-eyed as ever, with the intercom echoing of the museum closing within the hour.

“ You wanna check out the butterfly garden before we hit the gift shop?” Gueria suggests, as they pass the hall leading to the garden.

“ I ain't much fer butterflies, but why not?” He shrugs, not catching the small grin Gueira has on his face as he speaks.

Gueira has been delighted to discover Meis' accent also comes out when he's happy or excited, which has been prevalent throughout the day. Just knowing that he's the one that coaxed out that warm, honeyed drawl made this day even more worth it than it already was.

The two walk through an airlock into the garden and within minutes butterflies of all kinds flutter onto Meis' head. Immediately Gueira fishes out his phone to catch a photo of the lovely sight. Ink black locks are decorated with a multitude of colorful butterflies frame his beautiful face, highlighted by the gentle glow of the setting sun in the background.

“ I think they like the smell of your shampoo,” He giggles.

“ Well, they seem to be fond of you too,” The other man points out.

Confused by the comment, Gueira switches the camera to selfie-mode and sure enough, little critters litter his head as well.

“ They probably think yer some weird lookin' dandelion.” Meis snickers, pulling out his own phone to snap a picture. “Hopefully they don't get lost in there.”

Looping his arm around the other man, Meis and Gueira raise their phones, snapping a selfie to commemorate the day before heading to the gift shop. They peruse the over-priced trinkets and knick-knacks. Nothing of interest really sticks out to Gueira except what's in the glass counter. A series of handcrafted insect earrings. He catches sight of a pair made to look like a Black Widow Spider, and another pair shaped like a Cyclommatus Stag Beetle. Without a second thought, he knows he needs to get them for Meis. So while the other man is distracted, he stealthily buys both pairs.

He hides the jewelry within the inner breast-pocket of his jacket; he would present them later as a surprise. He fantasizes about the look on his face when he sees them, his mind wanders into thoughts of kiss as a show of gratitude, of which he quickly dismisses. He took Meis out just to cheer him up, not as a date.

They make their way out of the museum, heading back to Miami. “So, have fun?”

“ Hell yeah, I did!” He declares, face still shining with excitement.

“ Yeah? I'm glad to hear it. Lio told me you've been bummed out as of late, I figured you'd might like this.”

Thoughts of the last few days threatened to claw back to the forefront of his mind, thoughts he knew would plague him when he got back home.

“ Yeah, but I guess it's time to head back.” He states in a calm, but glum tone.

Gueira takes notice of that some of the shine leaves Meis eyes and voice. “Only if you want to,” He states carefully.

They stop on the steps, Meis looks to his friend and then out over the city skyline, buildings shimmering with the warm glow of the sunset. Gueira looks to the man as he patiently waits for an answer.

“ I don't wanna go home yet,” The slim man finally says.

“ Then let's not. Let's keep this feel-good train running all night baby.” The other touted loudly, with a wide smile and a wink.

The evening light hides the pink dusting Meis' cheeks, caught off-guard by such a charming expression. Hopefully he could spend the evening with the object of his affections without saying something incriminating about his feelings.

The two pick up dinner at a taco truck Gueira that swears by, and then they hit up the bar. They pull up to a building, stylized like a saloon from the outside. A few Mad Burnish linger outside socializing on the curb. Immediately, the gang members flag down the men.

“ Ayyy it's Gueira!”

“ Oh shit, he brought General Meis too! Now it's a party!”

“ General Meis? Wait, have you been here before?” Gueira looks to Meis, puzzled by the nickname.

“ Yeah, a few times. It's a Burnish bar primarily, but other people come by too.” Meis explains as he walks in, waving to the other members that call out to him. “Some of the younger members call me ‘General' since I'm second in command.”

“ Of the Mad Burnish?”

“ Yeah, didn't I tell you?”

“ No! You hardly tell me anything about yourself.”

“ Ah, sorry 'bout that.” He apologizes casually, scratching his cheek. “Whelp, I'm second in command and Lio is the leader.”

“ Wait, what!?” Suddenly it dawned on him at why Lio being pissed at Galo makes a little more sense.

The inside of the saloon is loud and rowdy. The grungy, old, wood panel walls and floors that tell of its age. Burnish flags, pride flags, anarchy flags, and other similar paraphernalia line the walls, its weathered tables and chairs arranged messily on the floor space. Its charm fell within its atmosphere and crowd rather than its appearance. A few in the open-spaced main room talk loudly playing pool and cards, while others try their hand at darts. The karaoke stage held a lone stool, a mike and electric guitar with amp. All sat sadly in the dim light, with a huge sign that read 'IF YOU SUCK, DO NOT SING! IF YOU ARE DRUNK, DO NOT FUCKING SING!'. Boisterous cries are heard in a room separate from the rest of the saloon as a crowd cheer on someone riding a mechanical bull.

“ Aw man, I wanna try that later!” Gueira points over to the bull with excited interest as he settles onto the bar stool.

“ Pfft, you'd just go flying off.” Meis snorts, sitting down next to him.

“ If I can handle an angry gator, then I know I can handle a fake bull.”

“ You willing to put money on that kid?” The bartender interrupts. “We got a special challenge if you're interested.”

“ Hell yeah I am!”

In ten minutes Gueira pays $50 and downs a tall shot glass of 100 proof whiskey. By the time he makes it to room with the bull, the drink is already taking effect. Still, he saddles up, confident he'll win a jar of money, a night of free drinks, and bragging rights over Meis. Three minutes later he's flung off, back to the ground legs propped against the rail while Meis is doubled over laughing with phone in hand.

“ Got anything you wanna say Gueira, hmmmm?” He snickers, zooming the phone's camera to close in on the disgruntled man who was now out $50.

“ Fuck you!” He spits backs. Clumsily he sits upright, dusting himself off as he stumbles to his feet. “You do it! You're supposed to be the cowboy!”

Normally Meis would pass on that, but what would be the point of going to a bar if he wasn't there to make a drunken mistake. He marches over to the bar and puts down $100, demanding two tall shots, within minutes he's stumbling over to the bull. He saddles up, giving the okay, and the metal steer moo's to life, jerking the rider with unyielding force. He whoops and cheers, vision blurring from the drink and motions, the crowd around him egging him on in proper Mad Burnish fashion. Three minutes turn into five, then seven, for every minute that passes the ride get rougher and choppier. Meis clings for dear life, determined not to eat shit in front of his adoring crowd, and Gueira. Eleven minutes passed and he's done it, challenge conquered, money won, drinks free.

“ YEEE-HAAAAW!” He cries in triumph. Just to show off, he stands on the bulls back, balancing only for a minute before he's sent flying into the crowd. The world spins around him, even after he lands square on top of Gueira, who made a valiant effort to catch him.

“ MEIS! MEIS! MEIS! MEIS!” The crowd chants with rampant fervor, and someone hands Meis a large jar of his winnings. He loops his arm around Gueira giving a wide drunken smile to the camera for his victory portrait.

“ DRINKS 'R ON ME Y'ALL!” He declares, victoriously raising the jar over his head, the crowd roaring with delight.

The bar is abuzz with everyone clamoring for their free drink, people offering their praise and congrats to their favorite general. Meis beams with pride, face flushed after more drinks. Gueira sat next to him, his pride hurt, but it was hard to stay hurt with free drinks swimming in his veins.

Meis eyes the darkened stage adjacent to the bar, When Gueira finally notices his companion no longer at his side, he's surprised to hear a slightly slurred Texan accent coming from the stage.

“ Uhh, 1...2...oh shit it works! Ahem good evenin', good evenin' you nasty little gremlins'.”

From the crowd, Gueira watches the silk-haired man sways as he tunes the guitar. He had half a mind to pull his friend from the stage, or he could record Meis drunkenly singing on stage. He pulls out his phone.

“ Soo, ah use to sing, like a lot. Ah was in a band, b-but those assholes kicked me out!”

The crowd boos in solidarity.

“ But y'all know wut? Fuuuuck them!” They all whoop and holler in agreement. “So, y'all know wut, I'm gonna sing their shit even better, like it was intended! Stop me if ya heard this one!”

The fingers dance skillfully along the neck and body of the aged guitar's strings, a low steady rhythmic tune sings out over the bar. The rhythm picks up, transforming into a melodic metal sound.

“ I threw my hatred into the pyre, so I could only feel love.” His deep voice carries smoothly over the crowd. “I relinquished my blackened ire into that fire, so I could only feel joy. So why, why do I, when I smile, why do I shed tears stained red.”

The strings cry out with a striking sound, however there was something familiar about the song and its lyrics. It took him a minute, but Gueira recognizes the song, it was a Silver Nails', or what sounded like a rendition of one. The lyrics were from a different song entirely, and the words were slightly different. Not only that, but the tune belonged to a different song as well. However, combined together, the sound felt more complete as opposed to the original. It had more energy, more passion, more power. Outright it was just a better song the way Meis sang it.

“ I cast my soul into that vengeful fire, all that I forsook burned me ‘sunder.” He sang out, voice full of emotion, the song nearing its end. “My husk became ash, returned to the earth, and now I am whole.”

He finishes it off with a powerful chord that trickles into quiet notes. The crowd cheers wildly and drunkenly, Gueira included. Meis' lips form a lop-sided grin, face flushed from either embarrassment, liquor, or exertion. Maybe all three.

“ Y'all wanna hear 'nother one?” He asks, drunken Texas drawl returning to his voice. The crowd cheers excitedly. “Well, alright then. Someone set me up with a bottle of Bird Dog, it's gonna be a long night.”

Whiskey in hand, Meis belted out tune after tune, a few reworks of Silver Nails, some popular songs, and others the crowd never heard of, but enjoyed regardless. Anything Meis sang sounded wonderful under his ministrations, even as he was getting more and more drunk, his singing and playing never once faltering. Between songs, he tried to play darts from the stage, the first landed on the dartboard, much to everyone's delight. The next one missed by a few feet, the crowd groans enthused, and Meis takes the final swing from the bottle. The final dart sails across the room and hits some poor drunk bastard straight in the nipple, and they all collectively wince.

“ Ahhww fuck! Shorry 'bout that!” He slurs heavily.

“ It's cool, I was thinkin' 'bout a nipple piercing anyway.” The gent takes his wound in stride, downs the rest of his drink, and plucks out the protrusion.

“ Git that feller a bottle on me, while I go take a piss.” He gets up from the stool, swaying unevenly. His uncoordinated hands sloppily set the instrument back in it's stand after a moment of trial-and-error. Once he finally gets the instrument sitting upright, he mindlessly staggers right off the stage, and right on top of Gueira.

“ Y-y'all been good at catchin' me.” He laughs, trying his best to upright himself.

“ Yeah well, quit fall fer me dumbass!” Gueira barks back, drunken smile stretched across his face.

The red-head, not as drunk as his friend, supports his weight as they head to the bathroom. Meis fumbles with his pants, barely able to stand on his own. Gueira does his best to keep himself and Meis upright, even going so far as to make sure he aims for the urinal.

“ Y'all 're bein' so sweet ta’ me,” He slurs, batting his eyes teasingly.

“ Mmmnng, shaddap 'n pee.” Gueira blushes, turning away his head, propping up the man so he could stand upright.

With his bladder empty and hands rinsed, they shuffle out of the bathroom. Suddenly Meis pushes Gueira around the corner into a little alcove hidden from view of the hall. Gueira's back hits the wall covered in stickers and other carved graffiti, and without any warning, whiskey-flavored lips cover his own.

“ Y'all bein' so good ta’ me.” The ink-haired man pants headily, lips never moving from Gueira's, his hips grinding with heated fervor against the other man's.

It takes a moment for Gueira's drunken mind to process that Meis' tongue was sliding into his mouth, his pale hands roam wildly along his body. He shudders as Meis peppers sloppy, open-mouth kisses along the sensitive junction of his neck and jaw. He feels his own hips roll in tandem with the other's, arousal steadily rising through veins. The sober part of his mind whispers to him of his guilty conscience, of how willing he is to allow the betrayal of a relationship. He tells himself to stop Meis, to push him off, and let alcohol take the blame for tonight.

“ So sweet ta’ me,” Meis whispers hotly against his ear, sending shudders down others' spine.

The maroon-haired man takes the other's slender waist in his hands, trying to will himself to push Meis away. He bites back a groan as a particular roll of those hips sends a sinfully pleasant jolt of arousal to his hardening cock. The sloppy kisses, Meis languidly rutting against him, and the husky whispers of want against his ear, crumbles his resolve. He grabs Meis' ass and pulls him flushed against his own throbbing cock. He kisses back with no reservations, happily melting into heated bliss. He's so lost in making out that he barely hears the clicking of his belt buckle.

Meis slides to his knees, becoming eye level to Gueira's cock. Upon fishing it out, he marvels at the twitching girth. Gueira groans loudly as Meis' hot, slippery mouth works his throbbing cock, doing his best to keep himself from buckling under such intense sensations. The dark-haired man with drunken enthusiasm laps and suckles away as if he's tasting the sweetest of candy. The red-head swallows thickly whilst enjoying the immense pleasure of Meis' tongue and lips mercilessly running along the swollen tip. He moans breathlessly when the unyielding wet heat envelopes him fully once more. There's no even pace, there's too much teeth, but to Gueira's heavily liquored up mind it feels like heaven.

He makes the mistake of looking down, ingraining a sexy image that would never leave his mind. Meis' face flushed, silky hair swaying with each bob of his head. Reddened lips wrapped near the base, cheeks hollowed out by the thick cock, and sapphire eyes half-lidded with drink and arousal glancing up at him.

“ Fuck...” He hisses, the sight sending a quivering wave of lust through his body. He wanted more. He needed more. He needed to feel more of Meis.

He gently pushes the man away from his cock, a string of saliva mixed cum stretching thin. He hoists the man back to his feet, pushing him against the wall into another heavy kiss. Meis moans as Gueira paws at his erection through his pants.

“ Mmm, take it out. Mmnngh, it hurts,” He softly pleads, still blitzed out of his mind.

Gueira wastes no time clumsily undoing the many belts until he seizes the rosy, drooling length in hand. A shuddered moan tears out of Meis' throat, of which Gueira was quick to catch with his lips locked on to the other man's. He presses hardened, flushed cocks together, smearing leftover saliva and fresh pre-cum along the lengths. He grips them firmly, languidly stroking, thumbing their slits for added pleasure. He feels the paler man begin to buck his hips in tempo with his pace, soft whines punctuating every time he swipes the tip. Cocks hotly pressed together leak pre-cum with no reserve, making wet sounds echo within the alcove. Whines soon dissolve into airy moans only serving Gueira to work their cocks more as he watches Meis face morph into drunken eroticism.

“ Haah...hmmgh...so good...ah. Ah! AH!” He pants out, hands braced against the wall, mouth open for more sexy sounds to pass.

Gueira wants to hear more, he wants to see more of this side of Meis. He urgently works his hand more, driven only by a primal desire to see more. Cerulean eyes are hazed with lust, faced tinted a sensuous red. Gueira watches with his own heady expression as Meis brow knits with pleasure, bottom lip bitten to restrain throaty moans. Gueira feels Meis' rigid heat twitch and throbs with each stroke; he's getting close. He works his hand faster, he needs to see more, to hear more, more of those tempestuous moans.

“ Ahh...fuck...I'm gonna...aah...fuck..fuck..fuckfuckfuckfuck!” His short shallow breathes stutters out, hips bucking wildly with need. His lithe frame jolts as cum shoots, and spills hotly over Gueira's hand.

Ruby eyes drink in the erotic sight that plays out before him, sending him into his own climax. Hot pleasure radiates from his groin through his body, splattering messily into his hand and onto the floor. Gueira rests his fluffy head against Meis' shoulder, pants coming out in hot shudders as he strokes himself through pleasure. He lazily presses kisses along Meis' milky collarbone, to his jaw, before hungrily catching his lips.

Meis reciprocates, moaning while tongues roam heatedly. They continue to sloppily make-out, Gueira kisses becoming more hot and heavy, arms wrapped around the other. He was so lost in the kisses he hadn't noticed Meis' lips slowing down, nor did he notice the steady, gaping huffs. Suddenly, hot, sour bile relentlessly flows into the red-head's open mouth.

He swallows it down, only to throw it up again, along with everything else in his stomach. Vomit soon covers the already filthy floor beneath them, the acidic smell masking the recent scent of sex. The pair spend a good five minutes throwing up in the alcove, dicks still out. Once the wave of nausea passed, Gueira felt that it was time to go. The pair manage to recover, and tuck themselves away, and Gueira discreetly alerts the barkeeper of their little accident. Mercifully, the barkeeper understands and lets them hose off in the alley. Afterwards, one of the more sober Mad Burnish ferries them home, but not before Meis gets one last tall drink in him.

It’s well past midnight when Meis and Gueira stumble back into the apartment. To Gueira's surprise he's greeted by Lio and Thyma sitting on the couch.

“ Thyma!” Meis happily yells, still drunk as skunk, and nearly trips over himself to hug the woman.

“ I'm happy to see you too Meis, but...you smell like...badly.” She winces as the taller man nuzzles her affectionately.

Lio sighs and tries to pry the man off, only to get caught in his embrace. “Damnit Meis!”

“ Boooossss! Yer so fluffy!”

“ I am not fluffy!” The blonde struggles with a huff. “Now, let go!”

Gueira chuckles at the scene, inebriation simmered to a heavy buzz, but takes pity on the smaller man. He mechanically walks over to try and help free him. “E-easy there buddy.”

“ Ah got such fluffy friends!” Meis lovingly declares, ruffling Lio's hair despite his continued struggling.“Boss 's fluffy. Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!”

He latches onto Gueira's unruly locks, shuffling his fingers the soft maroon locks. “Gueira 's fluffier! Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!”

Gueira doesn't bother to fight back, but simply melts into the touch, a huge smile plastered on his face. Soon, Meis' gaze shifts back to Thyma, and again he clings to the woman.

“  'N Thyma 's th' fluffiest!” He cheerfully muffles into her poofy mane, pulling her into another bear hug.

“ Aah! Meis quit it!” She whines, cracking an embarrassed smile, weakly trying to push away the drunkenly affectionate man.

“ And she's so stinkin' cute!” He exclaims, surfacing from her hair. “All y'all is so damn cute!”

His hands find their way to Lio's face, smooshing and squeezing his cheeks. “Boss is sooo cute! You 'n yer fuckin' baby face!”

“ Meis.” The smaller man warns, face unamused bordering on pissed.

“ And then ther's youuuu!” His hands then clap Gueira's face. “Yer fluffy hair, an' cute smile, with them purdy eye's! Everythin' 'bout cha is soo cute! N' sexy!”

The poor red-head couldn't help but feel conflicted in that moment. On the one hand Meis called him cute and sexy, but he is plastered. On top of that, he said that right in front of his girlfriend, after that whole incident back at the bar.

“ Y'all 're all so cute an' fluffy!” He flops dramatically on the couch, his voice now muffled. “Not fair! Y'all get t' be cute, an' I'm jus' scary with flat hair! Not fair!”

The two other men watch as Thyma gently pets the intoxicated man in an attempt to console him. Gueira looks on with mild concern, while Lio looks completely unbothered.

“ Does he usually get like this when he's drunk?”

“ Only if he was in a good mood while getting drunk.” Lio once more tries to pull the man away, who was now happily resting his head in Thyma's lap. “Alright Meis, time for bed.”

“ Nooo.” He whines. “Gotta keep th' feel good train goin'! Lio get that bottle a vodka out! Thyma sit on my face! Gueira sit on my dick! Lio take my ass! Everyone's gettin' laid tonight!”

“ Uhm, I agree with the Boss. Time for bed, Meis.” Thyma does her best to push Meis out of her lap without dropping him to the floor.

The two men hoist up the man, only for him to cling onto Gueira.

“ H-hey, spend the night with me.” The paler man slurs, and lowers his voice to a harsh, teasing whisper. “Then we can finish what we started at th' bar.”

Gueira freezes immediately with panic over whether Thyma heard that last part. He coughs loudly to cover his embarrassment, practically dragging the man over to his room.

“ I-I'd love to spend the night man, but I should get back home.”

“ B-but, ya left yer bike at tha' bar.” Meis reminds.

“ Ah, er, I'll just walk back.”

“ Nonsense.” Lio firmly objects. “You're not walking home at this ungodly hour. You can share Meis' bed. Thyma can sleep in mine, and I'll take the couch. We'll get your bike in the morning.”

“ Uhm, thanks for the offer, but--” His words stop short when he locks eyes with Lio. The blonde's fierce look told him he was not allowed to deny his hospitality. The red-head quickly changes his tune. “...can I take the couch instead?”

The sleeping arrangements are finalized, and soon enough Gueira is alone on the couch. He stares at the ceiling, the night's events replay through his head, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily. He runs his hands over his face, fingers gripping his hair, uncertain of what to make of it all. It was the alcohol. It was his weakened will. It was his feelings slowly growing out of control. Then there was explaining it all the next day when Meis would eventually ask.

He sighs heavily and looks over to his jacket in the darkness. He remembers the jewelry hidden in the breast-pocket. He rethinks about giving it to Meis; the last thing he wants is Thyma thinking he was trying to steal him away.

“ Fuck...” He groans miserably, tucking his head into the couch and burrowing himself into the given blanket. Exhaustion eventually overcomes him and he drifts off to sleep.

He's startled awake by a heavy weight on his stomach. Bleary eyes meet with a surprised Meis standing above him, holding a gallon of juice, a large box of Twinkies, and some pain-killers.

“ Sorry, didn't see ya there,” He sighs, tension deflating from his body.

The fluffy-haired man pats around for his phone, finding that it sometime past 9am. The cloudy day blocked out the sun thankfully, however, the blinding light from his phone seemed to set off his looming hangover. He groans pitifully, rubbing his painfully throbbing head, while nausea churned his stomach.

“ You want in on this?” Meis wearily offers, holding up his hangover remedies.

Gueira nods, drawing his legs to make room for him on the couch. Pretty soon the pair were munching on strawberry Twinkies and downing the gallon of juice, after a dosage of extra-strength Tylenol. The sounds of crinkling plastic, and moderately quiet eating, served as their only conversation, until..

“ So, why didn't ya’ just eat these in your room?” Gueira asks between bites.

Meis wordlessly holds up the box of Twinkies, and taps to the side of the box that reads in big bold marker “LIO'S”.

Gueira's brow knits in concern as he stares at the array of wrappers now scattered on the coffee table and couch. He gulps down the chewed morsel and stares at the half-eaten sponge cake in hand tentatively.

“ I'll buy 'im more later.” The longer-haired one reassured lazily.

Gueira shrugs, decides not to think too heavily about, downing the rest on the snack cake. He takes another swig at the juice when the question comes up...

“ So what happened last night?” Meis asks plainly.

Gueira stops mid-sip, caught off guard by the question. Slowly he swallows, avoiding Meis suspicious gaze.

“ Must've been bad if you ain't talkin'.” He surmises calmly. “So, what did I break or burn down? Do I gotta avoid someone now?”

“ Ah, well...it's not as bad as you think.” He grabs his phone, and pulls up the video of last night's events.

Meis watches with amusement as he conquers the mechanical bull while the crowd around him cheers. He snorts with laughter watching the camera shake as he's flung right into Gueira. The next video plays and amusement turns into quiet awe. He sees himself, singing songs he hadn't played in years, not a note nor melody sung off-key. He's smiling, joyous actually. Unaffected by old scars, temporarily drowned by all the alcohol. The video ends and he finds himself trying to blink back stinging tears.

“ Huh, really cut loose there.” He chuckles shakily. “But, that doesn't explain your reaction, so what else?” He downs more juice, trying to choke down his emotions.

“ Oh, that...well...” Gueira hesitates, trying to find the right words before finally blurting out, “We made out.”

Meis spits out the juice in surprise. His face reddens, turning to Gueira in shock, who was hiding his face in his hands.

“ And then you threw up in my mouth...”

Meis is mortified as he tries to grapple with the fact he made out with Gueira and puked in his mouth. Not a good look.

“ Shit! Erm, listen dude, uhm...fuck...” He runs his hands through his hair, trying to figure any combination of words to make this okay, face getting redder by the minute. “I...I can get...Listen...I didn't mean anything by it! Like, I'm really sorry! I'm not all there when I drink and that wasn't—Fuck!”

He hides his face in burning shame in the couch's cushions, heart going a mile a minute while his mind scrambles to recall what he did in his drunken stupor. Panic sets in once he realizes he may have said something that was never meant to be said.

“ Listen man, I get it.” Gueira muffles through his hands, unable to face the other man or tell the whole truth. “I've done some shit while wasted too, alright. Let's...let's just blame it on the alcohol and call it even.”

Meis silently agrees, and the pair spend the next few minutes trying to get over their embarrassment. Unable to deal with the tension Gueira decides to ask...

“ So, uhm, you said you were in a band last night, but got kicked out. What exactly happened?”

This was not the follow-up Meis was hoping for. He just keeps his head in the cushions, praying the other man would ask something else.

“ Does...it have something to do with what happened at the club the other night?”

Again, not the follow-up Meis was hoping for, and once more he remains silent between the cool comfort of the couch.

“ Come on Meis, talk to me.” He insists softly. “You were belting out Silver Nails' songs like--”

“ Thrrph wrrr mnnn!”He muffles through the couch, fist slamming the cushions in frustration.

“ What?”

Meis finally unearths himself, back facing Gueira, and replies again with quiet anger. “Those were mine.”

Gueira's searching eyes quietly look to Meis, and the realization soon dawns on him as the pieces fall into place. “You used to be a part of Silver Nails.”

“ When I was there, they weren't Silver Nails yet.” He lets out a quiet breath, resting on his elbows, staring blankly at the near-empty jug. “We used to be called Black Memorial Pyre.”

“ And they stole your music.” The other utters in disdain.

“ Yeah, after I started the band, taught them how to play, and wrote all our songs.” He laughs bitterly, reminiscing on those old memories. “We weren't very popular, but we had a good following. Which I thought was an accomplishment for a Visual Kei band in Texas. We toured around the state, played some cool shows, sold CDs. It wasn't all bad, but they wanted more. At the time I thought the same, so when Miles came up to us after a show and offered to be our manager, I thought, 'Hell yeah, this our big break!' Boy, was I wrong!”

Meis’ head flops on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with contempt written all over his features. “We were 'encouraged' to change things up a bit. And by a bit, I mean a lot. Our look, our sound, how we did our shows. I was fine with some things, but he was pushing us to become a different band altogether. Finally I put my foot down, but that ended up being the beginning of the end. 'Cause those assholes signed a deal with a record company and voted me out behind my back!

“ After we roomed together. Spent late nights practicing. Consoling each other through shitty days. Everything we went through, meant jack shit to them! I was pissed, but you know what? None of that even compares to how I felt after they released their first album.”

Meis runs his fingers through his hair again as he sighs, trying to hold down his steadily rising anger. “It was months later, I couldn't find any other people to be a part of my band, and my solo career was pretty much dead on arrival. By then I knew they had rebranded themselves and were coming out with a new album. I decided to listen to a demo just out of curiosity.”

“ That's how you found out. That they were using your songs.” Gueira finally speaks up, voice laced with heartbreak.

“ And they still are!” Meis laughs dryly, devolving in humorless chuckles. Then his face drops into a solemn expression, eyes still trained vacantly to the ceiling. “There's a special kind of awful when you can't become successful, but someone else does with your hard work.”

He remembers trashing his entire apartment in a fit of rage after listening to Silver Nails' album. Songs he never released, songs that held so much personal meaning, butchered and regurgitated, and sold off as their own, with just the barest of change so Meis couldn't sue. To add insult to injury, he was given nary a credit nor dime after contributing to their success, three records in no less.

“ So you can imagine how  _ thrilled _ I was to do a private dance for them.”

Meis retells that night's events, sparing no painful detail, and as he does so, Gueira's blood boils.

“ Those fucking assholes! Ugh, just hearing all that just makes me wanna find them and kick their asses!”

“ Pfft, by all means, be my guest.” Meis encourages sarcastically, “I think they're doing an encore show day-after-tomorrow night.”

There's a short silence of the red-head doing a quick search followed by, “You're right, it's at the amphitheater outside of town. I'm gonna fill their tour bus with hornets, no wait. I think I'll set it on fire instead.”

“ Wait..are you being serious?” He asks, turning his head to the other.

“ I ran over Vulcan with my 4-wheeler, of course I'm being serious!”

“ Hmph, I appreciate your offer, but there's no need for you to jump into my years-old drama.” Meis smiles carelessly, but his eyes widen when Gueira stands up, clearly more pissed than he was.

“ Why the hell not? After the crap they pulled, they need their asses wrecked! And if you won't do it I sure as hell will.”

Meis stares in awe at the fire burning behind Gueira's eyes. The maroon-haired man was obviously ready to jump in and raise all nine layers of hell on those bastards for his sake. It almost baffled him, but he knew that's just how Gueira was. It made him laugh, and his heart swoon.

All this time he's tried to move past what happened all those years ago. He tried to appear unaffected by his old band's success, but it was all a terrible front that stopped being believable for a long time. He was angry, livid even, they had no right to kick him out the thing he started, to use his music, and then get famous. They deserved his burning hatred, his furious ire, and that's exactly what they were going to get.

Meis' laughter subsides, and he looks back at Gueira, revenge burning behind sapphire eyes. “You're right, they've had it too good for too long.”

“ Exactly what I've been saying! So, gotta plan?”

“ Well, I ain't opposed to torching their tour bus.”

“ Hopefully with them not inside it.” Lio voice cut in from behind them, startling Gueira.

“ Jesus!”

“ Hey Boss, nah I wasn't planning on killing them, just making them suffer.”

“ I think I can help with that.” Lio informs with a smirk.

“ Oh hoo, you want in on this?” Meis questions with a devilish smile.

“ Normally I wouldn't encourage this, but after what they did to you, they need to pay.” He shrugs, “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you get revenge?”

“ Aww Boss.” He smiles, before finishing with, “You just wanna make sure I don't accidentally kill 'em.”

“ That too.”

“ So, really doin' this?” Gueira pipes in.

Meis looks to the two men, a proud, yet devilish smile stretches across his face. “Hell yeah.”

Lio's smile falters when he looks to the coffee table and notices the box, his eyes narrow. “Are those my Twinkies?”

The hours passed and plans are made.

–

The night of the encore arrives, the amphitheater is packed with Silver Nails fans eagerly awaiting to hear their musical stylings, both in-person and via simulcast. Its' 30 minutes until showtime, the band is busy with makeup and other prep work in their trailer outside the theater. The opening act is about to start their performance when out of the blue the projector malfunctions, followed by their microphones, then the lights. A minute passes and the projector displays an old messy apartment with a young Meis adjusting the camera.

He rattles off the date and time before sitting down on a stool, guitar in hand, and starts playing a very familiar tune. The audience watches on with confused murmuring while a tune and lyrics play over Meis' recording. A few more songs play after that, with Silver Nails' songs and lyrics layered over Meis' original recordings.

“ Many of you old-time fans are familiar with Black Memorial Pyre and their old frontman.” Lio's warbled voice echoes across the theater. “I'm sorry to say that before Silver Nails was started they kicked him out, but not before stealing his work and never crediting him.”

From outside Meis and Gueira can hear the band being exposed for all to witness. The pair from their hiding spot, watch as the security detail scramble over to the theater, leaving the tour bus unguarded. The duo emerges, with assorted flammables in hand. They break into the bus, and douse it, inside and out. Once the bus reeked of gas, the pair give the bus one last good look before Gueira offers Meis a Molotov.

“ Ready to watch this bitch burn?”

Meis lights his cigarette, an eager grin spreading across his face.“Baby, I was born ready.” He lights the vodka-soaked towel with the burning butt, and flames erupting from the bottle.

He flings the bottle at the bus and within seconds colorful flames burst forth, consuming the vehicle in a brilliant blaze. He exhales watching the flames dance in a glorious display of color, enhanced by the campfire chemical pack they littered throughout the bus. Years of harbored anger and resentment seem to melt away while he watches the beautiful blaze. He's entranced for a moment until Gueira pats his shoulder.

“ Come on, let's watch the real fireworks in action,” the tanned man gestures with his head towards the theater.

The pair sneak around, and perch themselves along the theater's walls, just in time to see dots of people's cell phones lights pepper the theater, as everyone tries to check the QR code projected onto the jumbo screen.

“ If any of you are questioning the legitimacy of these claims, a link has been provided to answer all your burning questions. Stolen and yet-to-be stolen music included.” Lio's voice continues to echo. “So now give it up for the sons of bitches that have been stealing all their shit! Silver Nails!”

The spotlight shines bright as the band shuffles hesitantly into the lion's den, their shameful faces enlarged by the giant screens. Boos and jeers erupt from the crowd as the band tries to introduce themselves. The minute they try to start a song the audience displeasure gets louder as those who are closer start throwing things at the stage. Many people start to walk out, and it doesn't take long for word to spread about the tour bus catching fire. Some people even go out to cast their band shirts and other merch into fire. It was all music to Meis' ears. He cackles at their downfall, savoring the delicious moment.

“ So, is it everything you hoped for?” Gueira asks.

“ And then some,” Meis replies, watching the chaos unfold with glee.

“ But it's not over yet.” Lio appears, cell phone in hand.

“ Nice MC skills there Boss.” Meis approves.

“ You flatter me,” he agrees. “Lou says he's in charge of transporting the band in their trailer, and he can get us in.”

“ Always nice to have a Mad Burnish on the inside.” Meis smirks. “Let's finish this gentlemen.”

–

Among the chaos, Silver Nails manages to make it to their trailer, securing them from their angry fans, but ultimately falling into a well-placed trap. The truck hitched trailer pulls away from the amphitheater and into the dark empty roads of the wilderness.

“ Ugh, I bet Meis has something to do with this.” Moors seethes scrolling through the #SilverNailisoverparty tag, chewing at his nails.

“ Of course he does!” Lars bites back, downing another beer, black-eyes and bruised face still healing. “Fucker's probably been plotting this for years.”

“ What I wanna know is how he got those files. You told us that Meis didn't have backups, remember?” Lars directs his anger at Trad, who was quietly nursing his own bottle of spirits.

“ You expect me to remember shit from years ago?” He replies with silent anger. “Just chill out, this will blow over soon enough.”

The trailer comes to an unexpected halt, and all is quiet as they sit in the still night. A moment passes and no one addresses the band, and with them being out in the wilderness, phone service was very sparse. Finally, after a while of waiting and debating, the four men step out of their trailer into the awaiting darkness.

They make tentative steps into the night, checking for their driver, who was nowhere to be found. They continue to search around, cell phones doing very little to cut through the overwhelming darkness, as they huddle together for safety. All is quiet as they wander further away from the safety of their trailer.

The roar of bikes thunder in the night, and a duo of blaring lights cast the men in blinding brightness. Dust kicks up as a 4-wheeler and hog motorcycle dash towards the band and rushes past them with dangerous closeness. The band huddles together, cowering in the middle of rampaging bikes circling around them like wolves stalking their prey. They are unable to tell who their captors are with the bike helmets covering their faces. Two men on the ATV, another on the motorcycle. They barely catch sight of the lasso ensnaring them. They watch helplessly as the rope quickly wraps around them, the caster cackling madly sitting on the back of the ATV. The rope binds them together, making then men lose their balance and fall to the ground below.

The bikes come to a stop, engines still revving, and the wrangler hops of the ATV to firmly knot the rope. He ignores their pleas and demands, and silently fishes Wren's phone from his pocket.

“ H-Hey what are you doing!? Give that back!” The man protests, panic latent in his voice.

Meis continues to ignore him while easily figuring out his password and digging through his videos. He finds the video from that night and deletes it, along with the one in the cloud. He’s pleased to find that the video had not been sent elsewhere. Satisfied, he tosses the phone to the dirt. He goes to link the rope to the hitch of the ATV. The men cry out as they realize the fate that is about to befall them. They cry for help, beg for mercy, and apologize profusely for whatever they had done. Meis relishes in their misery. Gueira disembarks and dramatically offers his ride to Meis.

Meis settles on the bike, and revs the engines. He speeds off into the rock cover wilderness, Silver Nails screaming for their life. He goes slow enough not to kill them, but fast enough to make it hurt, changing up the speed for added fun. It all melts away in that moment, the pain he had held for all those years. For the first time in a while, he feels lighter. Some minutes pass and Meis has had his fun, he cuts them loose with his pocket knife, letting the men tumble behind him.

He coasts over to the writhing form, looming over them as groan in agony, etching in every moment of their pain. Gueira saunters over casually, and gives each member of the band a harsh kick.

He settles back into the driver's seat, Meis right behind him and the trio ride off into the night, leaving the men to be found later.

–

The trio have a round of late-night victory pancakes, and watch their handiwork unravel on social media. The band was recovered, with mostly scrapes and bruises to report. Pity.

“ Think they'll sue?” Gueira asks, stuffing himself with a mouth full of pancakes.

“ Probably, but they have other things to worry about right now,” Meis casually replies, still scrolling.

“ What do you suppose happens now?” Lio asks sipping his coffee.

“ Not sure.” He shrugs, “The record label will probably contact me, wanting to smooth things over, offer some money and probably credit me.”

“ You don't seem concerned about them retaliating.” The blonde questions.

“ Legally? Nah, those idiots were never good with money, probably can't afford a good one.” The long-haired man explains. “They'll be too busy trying to spend money to make this all go away. The record company will probably cut ties with them, leaving them whatever is left to their names...possibly.”

Gueira lets out an impressed whistle. “Damn, you thought this out.”

“ That's Meis for you, calculating, cold, and ruthless.” The smaller man chuckles.

“ Not to mention cool as hell.” The red-head adds.

Meis merely preens at the praise, casually sipping at his drink.

The trio arrives back at the apartment, Lio heads in first, leaving Meis and Gueira alone.

“ Hey, you sure you're okay?” Gueira asks, sitting side saddle. He pushes up his visor to get a better look at the man.

“ Yeah, I'm fine; better than fine actually.” Meis sighs, removing his helmet and slinging around his hair. “And it's thanks to you. Wouldn't have bothered with all this if you hadn't lit a fire under my ass.”

“ Hey, sometimes you need someone to mad for you to get mad for yourself.” The fluffy-haired man shrugs. He jerks with slight surprise. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot.”

He reaches into his jacket and presents Meis with the earrings he bought at the museum. “I meant to give them to you yesterday, but...” He gestures vaguely, alluding to the night at the bar.

Meis gingerly takes the jewelry, turning them over in his hand, eyes wide with silent surprise. They were a little gaudy, but the gesture was sweet regardless and made his heart thunder in his chest.

“ T-Thanks.” He smiles, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I'll be sure to wear 'em.”

“ You better.” Gueira grins, saddling on his bike. The engine roars to life, and he looks back at Meis. “Be seeing ya.”

With that Gueira tips his visor back down and speeds off, leaving Meis quietly love-struck on the sidewalk. He wonders back into the apartment and into his room, still in a daze over what just happened.

His back hits the door, jewelry cupped to his chest. He glances over to his vanity, and decides to try them on. After tenderly hooking them into his ear he determines that, yes, they indeed look gaudy but, his heart overrode his personal style. He catches sight of his guitars reflected in the mirror. He glances back at them, and slowly approaches the instruments. He takes his banjo in hand and settles on the bed.

He softly strums a few chords, his mind thinking back to how this instrument came into his possession, and the fluffy idiot that gifted him.

The door to his room suddenly creaks open and Lio leans against the frame casually, sly grin on his face. It didn't take Lio long to notice the earrings and the grin grew wider. Meis stares back, like a cat caught with the canary, his cheeks glowing pinker by the second.

The two stare at each other unmoving, silently daring the other to speak first.

“ Nice earrings.” The blonde comments.

Meis instantly flings Marlo at him, face at full pinkness. Lio gracefully catches the stuffed shark and roams into the room to return the shark to the bed, unbothered by his flustered friend.

“ You should take better care of your things Meis...”

“ ...”

“ ...especially since someone you  _ love _ gave them to you.”

“ SHUT UP!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin (18+ only). You're welcome to scream at me about my fic there. Other folks sure have. If you're of the shy sort, don't worry I'll set up a curiouscat somewhat soon.


	10. Defending Seducing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you make amends with your crush? Somewhat like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. The world feels a little saner, but we ain't out the woods yet. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

Lio parks his bike a block down the road of one of the fanciest restaurants in Promepolis. It was an odd choice for Galo to choose for dinner. Lio expected him to pick his favorite pizzeria or even a nearby In-N-Out Burger, but no, it was a place called Du Froid. Something was off, Lio never mentioned enjoying fine dining or the fact he was the son of one of the most affluent families in Europe and North America. Then again, Galo insisted on taking Lio out to dinner to, as he calls it, hash out their differences. Perhaps Galo was taking this more seriously than he anticipated.

As he approaches the Du Froid, it's everything he expects out of such an establishment, a valet outside taking keys from people who have far too much money, as shown through their choice of expensive cars. Stepping inside, the restaurant's frigid interior could be described as ice-themed, sleek, modern decadence. Unimaginative, and boring. The translucent walls were softly illuminated by cool lights from atop icicle chandeliers. The host escorts Lio to the reserved table, and as they walk through, he sees the wealthy happily dine at sleek square tables, dressed to the nines. He vaguely hopes that if there are any patrons of his club here, they do not recognize him.

They finally approach the table sequestered in a booth, and Galo waves him down from afar. He's clearly shivering from the icy temperatures, but his smile is warm nevertheless, warming Lio's heart like always.

“G-glad you decided not t-to not stand me up.” Galo greets, teeth chattering.

“I'm a lot of things Galo Thymos, but being unnecessarily rude isn't one of them.” Lio scoffs.

“Could've fooled me, considering you've been giving me the cold-shoulder as of late.”

Lio sits at the table, careful not to let Galo's charm affect him. “I wanted to hear you out. I respect you that much at least.”

“A-awww, nice to know you're n-not so cold-hearted.”

“One more cold pun and I'm leaving,” He warns. “So tell me, why here of all places?” The blonde gestures vaguely to their surroundings.

“Oh, well, I didn't quite pick this place, but after I found out about it, I thought ‘What better place to have a heated discussion?’ This place will definitely keep our heads cool.” The larger nods sagely, rubbing his shoulders in an effort to stay warm.

Galo didn't pick this place? Then who would have suggested it? Perhaps Aina or maybe Remi? Definitely not Gueira, so who? Lio then notices the extra place set at the table, and a strong feeling of unease washes over him. An answer to his question became plausible, and he prayed he was wrong.

“Galo, are we expecting someone else?” Lio asks, tone stiff and careful.

“Oh, uhm, well...” Galo balks a bit, slow to answer, but he doesn't have to. Rounding the corner from the hall, Kray Foresight approaches their table. He stops short before sitting down, giving Lio an unreadable look behind his serene expression.

“Prez, you had me worried for a sec; thought you might have gotten lost from the bathroom.”

“I did actually, but I see our other guest has arrived,” He comments. The broad man extends his hand. “It's been quite some time since I've seen you, Lio.”

Wordlessly, Lio stands and offers his hand, his eyes fiercely fixed onto Kray's while quiet rage boils in his veins. Kray's icy hand eclipses his own, his grip was far too firm but, Lio returns the grip with greater strength. There the two men stood, hands and eyes locked, arms trembling subtly by their grips steadily strengthening. Lio watches unperturbed as Kray's serene gaze slowly reveals his harsh, deep, rouge eyes, his gaze as cold as his hands.

“Prez, I didn't know you knew Lio!” Galo cuts in, genuinely surprised by Kray's mention. “Lio, why didn't you tell you knew the Prez!”

“It never came up in conversation,” Lio firmly states, allowing Kray to free his hand before returning to his seat.

“Yes, Lio and I go way back actually, both myself and Prof. Deus were often invited to the Fotia's parties.” Kray sits down with a gentle warmth in his voice, face bereft of a hint of his previous expression. “I'm sure Lio has told you all about them.”

Galo's eyes slowly land on Lio, slightly narrowed in suspicion. “No, actually, he hasn't.”

The waiter briefly interrupts the table to take their drink orders. Lio doesn't meet Galo's eyes. There were some parts of his past he hadn't fully divulged. Not out of lack of trust, but simply on the principle that he wasn't nearly as much of an open book as Galo was.

“At any rate,” Lio continues, contempt apparent on his face as he points to Kray. “I was under the assumption that I'm here tonight for a reason. So, Galo, please explain to me why I'm dining with this man.”

“Ah, right.” Galo then reaches under the table and pulls out his tablet. “It seems that you and the Prez don't quite get that you're actually pretty similar.”

If it weren't for the fact that Galo was pulling up a PowerPoint presentation in the middle of a restaurant, Lio would've punched him for that.

“So, I'm here to show how you both have the good of the people in mind.” He taps the desktop icon that reads 'Lio and Prez: Great Minds Think Alike!'

The first slide shows candid pictures of Lio and Kray volunteering, with Lio rubbing his brow whilst directing Burnish on their tasks. Kray's photo shows him at a soup kitchen, though he feels more like a presence than a participant.

“You both like helping people. Lio, I know you and the Mad Burnish do a food drive twice out of the month, you donate school supplies and uniforms; and I know you guys have that little hideout for homeless youth and other people who need it.”

Lio can't help to smirk as Galo lists off his charitable acts, but his eyes still linger with intense fire towards Kray.

“And Prez I know you're always donating to a good cause, and all the inventions you've made have been helping people around the world.”

Lio audibly scoffs, rolling his eyes while resting his cheek on his knuckles. Kray's brow slightly furrows, while Galo gives the smaller blonde a pleading look. The next slide reveals a few more photos of Kray and Lio leading their charges, the Mad Burnish appeared more eager than those employed under Kray.

“You're both leaders in your own right, ready to take the charge and get your hands dirty.”

“Somebody has certainly gotten their hands dirty.” Lio mumbles, glaring daggers at Kray.

“Lio,” Galo hisses.

Kray arches his brow, but his face remains unchanged, unbothered by the smaller man's hostility towards him.

Galo swipes to the next slide listing off the men's accomplishments for the city, with little doodles of Lio and Kray on opposite sides of the tally. Crudely animated doodles of awards slide over to Kray's tally.

“Prez of course has a successful pharmaceutical company, numerous patents, and has won like a ton of awards.”

By this point, Lio was really starting to debate if he should just leave because hearing Galo gush about that man was both heartbreaking and sickening.

“And Lio also has a successful business too, won the hearts of the community, and united a rag-tag bunch of rowdy bikers to do good.” Little drawings of the Mad Burnish and random people crowd around the tiny Lio surrounding him with little hearts.

The next slide has the tiny Lio and Kray drawing shaking hands. “So in conclusion, you two have a lot common, and while you have different ways of tackling things, you both want what’s good for Promepolis.”

A small Promepolis drawing rises from behind the pair and little people surround them. “If you both work together, I'm sure there's nothing you both can't accomplish.”

The presentation ends and Lio stares at Galo wondering to himself, how could he have fallen so hard for this man, and why does he continue to fall even harder. Meanwhile behind Kray's neutral visage, was genuine awe at how he allowed this man to work at his company when he clearly only has two functioning brain cells.

The waiter appears with the tables drinks and refills their complimentary water. The pair of blondes were still at a loss for words. It isn't until the waiter leaves the table does Kray finally speaks up.

“Well Galo, that was certainly...an interesting...and eye-opening presentation.” The largest man struggles casually for words while sipping his wine.

“The drawings were very cute Galo, you're quite the artist,” Lio compliments, offering a small, but sincere smile.

“Glad you both liked it.” Galo preens, chest puffed out in pride.

“However Galo,“ Kray continues, “I think you are mistaken, the Mad Burnish aren't nearly as good of an influence as you're led to believe. They've caused numerous amounts of property damage, have frequent encounters with law enforcement, and--

“How about you tell the whole truth.” Lio interrupts, arms crossed. “The Mad Burnish don't cause trouble out of boredom.”

“I see, pray tell, explain to me why lewd graffiti was placed around potholes across the city.”

“You mean the potholes people were complaining about for years that finally got filled.”

Kray had referred to an incident last year in which vandals had spray-painted various city council members spreading their ass cheeks while the potholes served as the opening for their assholes. Of course, Kray Foresight's ass was painted over the largest potholes.

Lio fondly remembers waking up to that news. He and Meis laughed to the point of tears for days after. Needless to say, it took the city two weeks to pave over those roads, and news afterward described the incident as a waste of taxpayer money.

“Well...at least the potholes got fixed.” Galo offers with a shrug.

Lio smirks smugly at the largest man, until...

“But when Prez becomes the governor, I'm sure he'll make sure roads and stuff like that won't get so bad.”

“Of course; the city's infrastructure will be one of my top concerns.” He sips casually from his wine as Lio's piercing glare steadily grows.

==

“I'm sure he doesn't know where I live but, I feel like he's hanging around the neighborhood.” Thyma states staring down at the mug of tea, worry laced in her voice. She sits beside Meis on the couch of her apartment, the characters on the television serving only as background noise.

“You want me to send some guys out to check,” Meis suggests sipping from his own mug, mildly interested in one of the character's plight.

Thyma quietly shakes her head. “Just having you around is enough.” She glances at Meis with a calm smile.

Meis had picked up the habit of visiting Thyma's place a little more often after her last run-in with Reus. Sometimes he'd stay the whole day and the two would head off to the club together. Sometimes he'd hang around for a random amount of time, and then there were other times Thyma would just show up at their apartment. The arrangement was fine enough; pretending to date Thyma kept Reus at bay but it didn't scare him off permanently. Meis was slowly trying to figure out a way to remedy that.

“But outside of that, how are things with you and Gueira going?” She prods, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“We're having fun,” Meis replies calmly, blushing into his tea, now feigning interest in the TV.

“So I've heard: You came home drunk with him, called him sexy, and asked him to ride you.” She grins.

He gives her a sideways glance before returning his face to its neutral state. “I was drunk, I get a little horny when I'm wasted.”

“You also called him cute and said his eyes were 'purdy'.”

He offers no counter, but the red on his cheeks deepen. Of course, Thyma notices. She noticed a lot about the two of them lately. One would miss it if they didn't know Meis well enough, but Thyma could see his demeanor had changed, that his heart was softened by love. She sees how his eyes light up and lips curl into a smile when Meis gets a text from Gueira. She has seen him go from quiet and aloof to smiles and laughter when he and Gueira are at the bar. She sees the round capsule toy for Gueira waiting in his jacket pocket.

It hurt.

It hurt to watch the man she held strong feelings for slowly drifting towards someone else. She doesn't hate Gueira for it though, she knows it's her own fault. Had she not waited so long, maybe it could've been her.

She rests her head against the couch, focused on the man sitting next to her. Softly she teased, “You know, it's okay if you love him.”

“I don't love him.” The man insisted, staring her down, cheeks still red. He relaxes a bit and his glance trails to the floor. “I just like him...maybe a little more than just as a friend.”

Meis knew he wasn't in love, or at least he wouldn't call the feelings he had for Gueira love. People don't fall in genuine love in a little over six months. He doesn't know Gueira well enough to fall in love with him. On top of that, Gueira doesn't know him well enough for it to work as a relationship. So, how? How is it that he has feelings for the man in the first place? Yes, Gueira has proven himself to be a sweet and trustworthy man, but, not to an extent that warrants falling in love, at least to him.

“So why not date him?”

“No.”

Thyma knits her brow, lifting her head from the couch, “So you have an intense crush on him, but you won't date him? Why?”

“It'll all fall apart eventually.” He shrugs, leaning his back against the couch “The first few months are good. Then the next few months start getting sour. Next, you're arguing about anything and everything. Everything you do seems to annoy them, nothing is ever good enough. Finally, you wake up one day, and you wonder; how did this stranger wind up in my bed?”

Thyma is quiet for a moment trying to find thoughtful words to counter pessimistic thoughts. “It's been a while since you've been with someone, maybe it'll be different,”Thyma suggests.

Meis huffs out a humorless laugh and is about to reply with possibly something snarky, but he cuts his words short. His brow furrows, and his eyes search as a thought dawns upon him. Thyma is about to ask what's wrong until finally, Meis exclaims...

“Wait! That's it!” He quickly sits up straight, facing his friend.

“What's it?”

“I don't have feelings for Gueira! I just wanna fuck!” His eyes shine with new enlightenment while Thyma holds a look of pure confusion.

“Wh-where are you going with this?” She shrinks into the couch a bit.

He clasps Thyma by the shoulders causing her to squeak, as the intensity builds in his eyes and voice. “The only reason I have these feelings for Gueira is because I haven't fucked in ages. Somehow, my last two brain cells have made me confuse romance for a need to fuck.”

“So...”

“I just need to get laid!”

“With Gueira?”

“Nah, it doesn't have to be him.”

“...the Boss?”

He finally lets go of her shoulders and crosses his arms thoughtfully. “Doubt it, he's stuck on Thymos. I think they're supposed to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe if Thymos blows it, he might be up for it just to blow off steam.”

Thyma pauses for a moment, still trying to process Meis' leap in logic, but doesn't stop herself from quietly suggesting...

“...with...me?”

Meis snaps his towards Thyma and his eyes go wide. “...what?!”

“What?”

“Waitwaitwait.” He holds up his hands, before giving her an earnest look. “Are you asking me to--”

“I mean, if it'll help you sort out your feelings...I don't...mind.” Her face flushes red, hopeful eyes glancing up at the slim man.

Meis watches Thyma fidget with her mug, quietly mulling over her offer. “Thyma, it's fine, you don't have to do that.”

“I'm serious you know.” Her voice holds more confidence, eyes locked to Meis. “I haven't been with anyone since Reus, I'm a little pent up too. Unless...you'd think...it's too weird.”

She glances down to the floor, only for a slim finger to tilt her face back to the man next to her.

“I won't think it's weird if you won't.” He leans in closer.

She silently nods her head and leans in to close the gap.

“Don't be afraid to stop me.” Their noses touch as his lips are a breath apart.

“Okay.” She mutters.

The kiss starts out tentatively, as they both test the mood, and quickly Thyma's kisses become more eager bit by bit. Meis's tongue gently trails her lips, before she invites him to wrap his tongue around her's.

\--

Galo knew the dinner conversation had a chance of becoming uncomfortable, he knew tensions would rise but, he didn't account for the possibility of murder. The look in Lio's eyes was something Galo could only describe as pure murderous rage. Meanwhile, Kray's maroon eyes were bereft of his usual serene kindest, they were now harsh and cold as the words he spoke.

“Those Mad Burnish who are in the hospital only have themselves to blame.”

“What was that?” Lio spits back, rage warping his voice.

“They run amok in streets, brandishing themselves as above the law. The police have no choice but to do what's necessary to keep the city safe.” He casually sips his water, ignoring the angered gaze of the smaller man. “As far as I'm concerned the less of them, the better.

With a thunderous roar, Lio launches himself across the table, cutlery, and décor clattering to the floor. Kray does not flinch, nor does he move, because Galo comes to his rescue and restrains Lio before he could touch him.

“Lio stop!” Galo struggles as Lio does everything in his power to rip the man before him apart.

“Galo! LET GO!”

“I'm sure the Prez didn't mean it like that!”

“No. I meant it,.”Kray admits calmly. He looks to Galo's surprised face and offers a tired sigh. “You both are incredibly naive, shameful honestly.”

“Galo, it's clear that you have been deceived by this little man. And Lio, it seems you have disillusioned yourself. Nothing you or the Mad Burnish do is helping these people; you're only enabling their suffering.” He coldly explains, his words holding a more venomous hateful weight. “The time and effort you 'donate' is never going to make them into more productive members of society. They'll continue to be worker ants, they'll never reach higher than that; even the few that do find success will be average at best. Another run-of-the-mill lawyer, another simple doctor, another small business with a 10-year life span, another replaceable cog in the machine.”

“That's not true!” Galo argues angrily, grip still firm on the smaller man. “Lio and the others are making sure people have food; somewhere to go when they have nowhere else; resources wh--!

“And what good has that done!” He harshly slams his fist, the one remaining spoon clatters to the floor. He clears his throat, calming his flexed arm threatening to burst out of his sleeve, and his voice returns its harsh chilled tone. “ Tell me, is that helping them climb up from their mediocrity? Are they striving to do more? To be more? Or are you helping them stay content with lives that will lead to nowhere?”

As Kray speaks, Lio can feel something shift in Galo. The smaller man can feel Galo's heart thundering, and the subtle quivering of his body from the unease taking hold. He watches bright blue widen with disbelief as Kray's true nature begins to reveal itself.

“Not everyone can be saved, and not everyone is worth saving.” Kray declares, eyes locked onto Galo. “Those who will prove themselves to be extraordinary and exceptional will rise above it all and be a benefit to their community, the world as a whole even.”

“So, in your eyes, there is no place for a common person,” Lio hissed, rage still radiating from him.

Kray shrugs. “There is a place for them, but why should there be?”

“You're disgusting!” Lio spits, bristling like a hostile cat.

“I don't want to hear that from someone who profits from a den of lust, and has reduced himself to a loathsome whore!”

It was quick. It was painful. It was unexpected, from Galo, to Lio, and to Kray. Kray quickly catches the corner of the table, body hunched over, cheek throbbing from Galo's fist slamming into his jaw.

“Galo...” He growls, head slowing turning to his attacker, with seething red-eyes framed by a few out of place hairs. “...you're pushing your luck.”

“I can't believe you! All this time, I looked up to you! I thought you were a kind man!” Galo swallows thickly, lips crinkled in a crooked frown, until croaks out remorsefully, “You were my hero...”

Kray chuckles dryly, “You have the nerve to be disappointed in me when the real disappointment is wrapped in your arms.”

Galo looks down at Lio who has stilled for a moment.

“Has Lio ever told you about his past, where he comes from, or why he's in his current line of work? Or rather, _why_ he’s no longer welcomed back into House Fotia?”

“You bastard! How dare yo--!!”

“I don't need to know!” Galo declares, hugging Lio closer, cheeks connected. “The Lio I know right now is kind, hard-working, cares more about others than you do, and has a passionate burning soul! And that's all that matters!”

In that moment, Lio felt his fiery rage turn into something just as hot but, a lot less angry: A smoldering warmth for Galo.

“I was a fool to get involved with you Galo. A waste of my time,” Kray sighs. “I tried to make you into something worthwhile but, it seems that you were doomed from the start.”

Galo stares down Kray, and sees an expression that looks unfamiliar to him. He sees his former hero’s eyes filled with disgust and rage towards him. Disappointment and sorrow fill Galo’s heart, weighing down his chest. He feels a million things to say buildup on his tongue, but decides against it, opting for these few final words...

“I don't care! Come on Lio!” With that Galo storms out of the restaurant, Lio still firmly tucked in his arm, feet dangling.

==

Thyma wakes up some hours later, still naked in her bed. Meis had left some time ago after passing out while snuggled against her. Post sex clarity was sneaking up on her. She didn't regret it, three amazing orgasms were nothing to regret in her book. However, she did feel conflicted. Sleeping with Meis was only going to make it more difficult for Thyma to put her feelings away from him but, on the other hand, she wanted to indulge, to feel protected, to feel loved. She wanted to indulge, even though she knew it would stop one day. One day Meis would realize his feelings for Gueira and pursue them, and one day she would have to leave Promepolis.

She knew Reus was closing in on her, and like the town and life she had before, she would have to leave it all and start anew. While she trusted the Mad Burnish to deal a hellish reckoning upon him, it was Thyma herself that would be hurt the most if he retaliated. Just like last time.

No, the last thing needed was more debt and random men showing up at her apartment again. For now, she'll enjoy this arrangement until Meis came to his senses or until her guilt got the better of her. It all has to end at some point.

She sighs heavily and rolls out of bed to get ready for her shift at the club.

==

They are a good way down the street before Lio calls out to Galo, but he doesn't respond. He was still tucked under the man's arm, the spiced complementary scents of cologne and deodorant filled his nose but, didn't make being carried more comfortable. He calls out to Galo again, and again, and again. Impatience and discomfort finally get the better of him, and Lio gives Galo a good hard kick, causing the larger man to finally drop him.

“Owww! What was that for!?” He angrily pouts while clutching his thigh.

“I've been trying to figure out where the hell we are going for the last three blocks!” The smaller huffs, arms crossed.

“Sorry, my head is all messed up right now. I'm angry, frustrated, sad--” His stomach interrupts with its own complaint. “...hungry.”

Lio's face softened. He wasn't sure about how far Kray's and Galo's relationship went, but it was clear that he was deeply upset at what just happened.

“Well, let's try and fix the hungry part first.” Lio gently suggests.

A nearby In-and-Out Burger suffices for the pair. It was relatively quiet save for some teenagers and the restaurant crew. As they wait for their order, Galo is quiet and his face is solemn. A look Lio has yet to see on Galo, and it's a far cry from his usual boisterous bright expression.

“I'm sorry that Kray wasn't the man you thought him to be.”

Galo sighs, letting his elbows prop on the table while forehead rests on his fingers. “I'm the one who should be sorry. You tried to warn me about him, hell even Gueira tried to warn me, but I was stubborn and didn't want to listen.”

“It's not your fault, Kray has deceived a lot of people.” Lio pauses, and bitter anger sets in his face. “Myself included.”

“So you really did know Kray.”

Lio nods, starts explaining about his privileged upbringing that led him to meet Professor Deus Prometh, and Kray at one of his parents' parties.

“I thought he was truly a fascinating and brilliant man, so I asked him to take me as a student.”

He soon began learning about medical and mechanical engineering, however with being twelve-years-old, he wasn't a very good student. Still, along with his studies, he learned about the harsh unfair reality many lived by, and how it hindered them and left them without basic needs. That alone inspired Lio to help people and had an idea of how to use his family's wealth and prestige to make that happen. A company dedicated to affordable pharmaceuticals, medical implants, and environmental solutions, with inventions and patents developed by Deus, headed by himself and Kray.

“However, the Professor's inventions and patents were all stolen by Kray, the company he has today is something Deus would never approve of.”

“But why hasn't he said anything?”

“He died a long time ago, or rather was murdered,” Lio states bitterly, lips pursing at the final word.

“What?!”

A few weeks following Deus' death, Lio received a letter in the mail. Deus wrote that in the time that Lio receives the letter he should be out of the country, or dead. He warns Lio of his demise plotted by Kray and few others in order to seize control of his inventions and patents to be exploited for their own personal gain.

“I wanted to tell someone, but I didn't know how deep this went, or who to trust...then again it's not like anyone would've believed me.”

“Why?”

“...would you trust an arsonist?”

Lio explains that his family came to Promepolis for an event, and he got into an argument with his father for something he can't remember. He ran off into the night, and ended up in some neighborhood, blood still boiling. Pyromania was his usual choice of bringing himself down. He procured some lighter fluid and matches, and a dumpster near a small empty building became his target.

  
  


He watched the flames writhe and grow, hypnotized by their alluring dance. It wasn't until heavy plumes of smoke broke him from his trance, it clogged his lungs and stung his eyes. However it wasn't from the fire in front of him, but the raging inferno behind him. Lio watched in horror as the pyre consumed the buildings behind him with no regard for the lives trapped within its deadly heat. Without thinking he began to try and find some semblance of safety but, it was dark and the thick smoke only made it darker, and the tears clouded his vision.

He ran around blindly, his lungs burned with smoke and ragged coughing, until he collided with a large body.

“It was Kray.” Lio utters, “At the I was relieved that he found me, but then...”

Kray was lauded by the public as a hero for saving a young boy, Lio was implicated as the boy who destroyed an entire neighborhood, although not publicly. Professor Deus' life was tragically lost to the flames that night.

“My parents kept me secluded until I was old enough to be shipped away to boarding school, effectively disowning me,” Lio somberly adds.

Silence encases the booth, neither pair sure of how to follow up with that reveal until Galo finally says...

“...He's really been a bastard this whole time, and I made you have dinner with him. I am so sorry, Lio.” He sighs, letting himself slump a bit in the booth. “To think I thought of him as my hero that night...and thought of him as my family afterward.”

Lio's eyes widened as looks to Galo, suddenly it all made sense. The newly orphaned boy that was saved by Kray he saw on the news all those years ago. It was the reason why Galo was so dedicated to Kray, and why he was so hurt by him.

“Galo...I'm sorry...”

“No, it's fine...”

For a short moment, they sit in silence again, their pasts shedding new light until finally, the food arrives. Galo immediately tears into his pile of cheeseburgers and mountain of fries, meanwhile, Lio gently unwraps his cheeseburger and plastic cutlery.

“I don't think I've ever seen someone eat a cheeseburger with a knife and fork before.'' Galo chuckles at the sight of Lio eating his food in such an unusual yet refined manner.

“A habit I have yet to break, a curse of my upbringing,” Lio jokes, twirling the fork for emphasis.

And so, the two finally have dinner, at an In-and-Out Burger, dressed in their finest suits as more pleasant conversation lifts the heavy mood.

After being properly fed and digested, the two make the trek back to Lio's bike.

“I must say, this is the worst first date I've ever had,” He chuckles, eyes glancing tentatively up at Galo.

“Hah yeah, I'll do better next time,” Galo avows casually, causing Lio to stop in his tracks.

Galo turns around to see Lio fidgeting with his sleeve while arms are crossed. The taller man gives a lop-sided smile towards the blonde. He gently clasps his hands on Lio shoulders, the smaller man retains his posture, as a faint blush paints his cheeks.

“You better,” Lio pouts, magenta-eyes staring back with shy defiance.

“I'm a man of my word,” Galo claims confidently, eyes shining with promise.

Lio stares back at those beautiful blues filled with fire, which simultaneously set his heart alight. He watches Galo slowly close in on him, lips ready to rest against his. Lio's slender finger stops Galo's lips short.

“I only kiss after a good date. ”He whispers teasingly into the other's ear. “However...”

Gently, Lio's soft lips meet upon Galo's warm cheek, lasting only for an instant. Lio smugly looks back to the befuddled and blushing Galo. “Think of this as an incentive.”

With that, Lio mounts his studly chopper and rides off leaving a still befuddled Galo behind.

==

When Lio returns home, he's greeted by Meis on the couch, strumming a no-name tune on his guitar, both snakes lounging languidly on him.

“So, how was your date?” Meis pries with a knowing smirk.

“Terrible,” Lio states flatly. “We went to some weird fancy restaurant, Kray was there--”

“Please tell me you cracked him across the jaw.”

“No, but Galo did, it was actually rather sexy.” Lio smiles fondly at the memory. “Afterwards we ate at an In-and-Out Burger, and had a heart-to-heart. Still an awful date, but Galo has an opportunity to make it up.”

“So, you're actually gonna give that buffoon a chance? You must've fallen for him pretty damn hard.” Meis continues to strum his guitar.

Lio pauses for a moment, eyes searching the space before another soft smile graces his lips. “Yeah, I have. I think...no, I am in love with Galo.”

A sour chord punctuates Lio's confession and Meis looks back to his friend, bewildered. “I'm sorry, I must've heard wrong; did you just say you're in love...with Galo?!”

“Yes. ”Lio crosses his arms, arching his brow. “Is that a problem?”

“You've only known the guy for, like six months! How can you be in love with him?”

“If I'm being honest, and I hate to say it, but it was Kray.”At this point, both Beatrice and Matilda peer their heads over the couch as if to share Meis' deep confusion of Lio's heart. “At dinner when Kray joined us, I could've walked out right then and there but, I stayed. I stayed because of Galo, I would've never in a million years do that for anyone else.”

Meis has known Lio since high-school, and while Lio has always been civil, he's never taken shit from anyone. To get Lio Fotia to have dinner with someone he unabashedly despises would take a lot. Somehow, Galo Thymos was that force.

Meis sighs with resignation, arguing with Lio on his own feelings was futile. “If that's how you feel, that's how you feel.”

While it didn't make a lot of sense to Meis, he was still happy for Lio. However, he was a bit envious of Lio's resolve with his feelings. While Meis was certain that he wasn't in love with Gueira and that his feelings for him were just limited to unresolved lust, a tiny voice within himself kept screaming for different.

For now, he knew it was best to ignore it.

==

Meis awoke the next morning to a text message from...Galo?

_Unknown: Hey Meis it's Galo! I got your number from Gueira! Listen I know this is weird but I need you to call ASAP, it's about Gueira and it's urgent!_

Meis doesn't think twice about and calls up Galo, but he makes a mental note to tell Gueira not to give out his number. The other line rings twice until...

“Oh dude, I'm super glad you called.” Galo replies with relief as the background noise threatens to drown out Galo.

“What's this about, Thymos?”

“I'll be quick, long story short Gueira is super sick right now, and normally I would be there after work to look after him, but I got swamped and I'm gonna be working overtime for...a while...”

“Is this cause you punched Foresight?” Meis questions amused.

“...Ah shit, I didn't even think about that...” Galo could be heard slapping his forehead at his realization. “Anyway, could you please make sure he's alright? He's got a condition and...you know what this would be way easier to explain if you came over; you need the key to his apartment anyway.”

Meis agrees and starts getting dressed all the while, and a pit of worry forms in his gut. He's not sure what he can do to help Gueira but, damned if not going to give it his all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin (18+ only). You're welcome to scream at me about my fic there. Other folks sure have.


	11. Rehabilitation Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you get your crush into bed? Not quite like this.
> 
> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. The world feels a little saner, but we ain't out the woods yet. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

The night Gueira came home from work he knew it was coming, the dull ache in his joints was usually his warning. Preemptively, he sent an email to Galo telling him to be prepared for him to not come in, and he was glad he did. The next morning Gueira's bones were heavy as lead, his joints and muscles radiated with awful pain.

He was familiar with this and had been since he was young, bouts of exhaustion coupled with aches throughout his body. No matter how used to it he had gotten, it was always a drawn-out miserable experience. The coming days would be more of the same, terrible pain, horrible exhaustion that stayed no matter how long he slept, if he could sleep.

Anger and frustration burned, sitting heavy in his gut like a stone, but he felt too tired to do much about it. For now, he eases his anger with a heavy sigh, and tries to amass some energy. Eventually, Galo would show up to check on him, and Gueira would have to shoo him off. He is grateful for his friend, but his stubborn pride would only allow him to do so much.

“Gueira!” A familiar voice calls out for him, not Galo's.

He hears the door to his room swing open, and watches Meis peer into view. Dread overshadowed his joy, as the lanky man approached his bedside. On one hand, he was always happy to see Meis but, he did not want Meis to see him at his most vulnerable. Quickly Gueira tries to stand up to appear unaffected by the weakened state, but it just as quickly backfired. The moment he stood up, his head swam and his body flopped heavily back onto the bed.

“Oh shit!” Meis gasps and hurries over to the man, hovering over him with eyes filled with worry. “Dude, are you alright!?”

A bad question to ask.

“No, I'm not alright! I'm too fuckin' weak to even stand up!” The red-head screeched, his palms digging into eyes.

Realizing that was a stupid question to ask, Meis tries to refocus his wording. “On a shit scale of one to ten, with cat shit being a one, and shit mountain being a ten, how shitty do you feel?”

“A hundred!”

“I see, so shit planet then.”

“What the hell are you even doing here?! And how the hell did you get in my apartment!?”

Meis holds up a key and replies, “Galo.”

“Goddamnit Galo...” Gueira groans miserably, sliding his hands down his face.

Meis sighs and gives Gueira an earnest look. “Listen man, I'm just here to help--”

“Well you can't!” Gueira snaps, “This isn't something that's gonna go away overnight, or in a few days, or even a few weeks! I'm gonna be a useless sack of shit for God knows how long!”

Meis again gives a sigh, remembering that Galo did warn him about Gueira possibly not being in the best mood. He glances down to see the other man turned away from him, no doubt fighting back frustrated tears.

“You're right. I can't make you better,” Meis agrees calmly. “But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to make things easier on you, so you won't get any worse.”

Meis didn't have a wealth of knowledge about all of this, just a quick Google search and some advice from Galo. He knew what to expect, but didn't know how it would all turn out. All he knew to do was be by his side, and do the best he could.

“Cooking, chores, errands, whatever you need, just let me handle it.” The dark-haired man offers earnestly.

Gueira still doesn't face him, only shrugs and replies irritably, “Well, what if I don't want you to.”

“Tough shit, after what you just said, I ain't about to leave you here to struggle and rot.”

Gueira only offers silence as his response.

“Hey...do you really hate the idea of me being around that much?”

“...not really.”

“So, why not let me be nice ta’ ya for a change. I mean, you throw money at my ass, you ran over Vulcan for me, took me out to an insect exhibit to cheer me up, and helped tear down my old band, why not let me do this for you?”

“Is that what this is about, returning a favor?” Gueira replies bitterly, looking over his shoulder to give Meis a glare.

“Hardly, I just...care about ya...a lot.” Meis could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He wasn't sure why, he was only telling the truth. Sincerity still carries in voice and eyes as he admitted, “You mean a lot to me Gueira.”

Even though his body still felt like lead, those words sent Gueira's heart soaring. He rolls over slowly to face Meis, eyes wide at the earnest weight of Meis' words. He sees the faint red in paler man's cheeks, clearly embarrassed at having to say something so mushy. Still, it worked. Gueira's prideful stubbornness finally yielded to Meis' kind heart. Oh the things Meis does to him.

“Alright, fine.” Gueira relents casually, “You can stay and help, but anything I can do on my own, you let me do. Got it?”

“Got it.” The other man agrees with a small smile. “Now, can you sit up?”

It takes him a minute, but carefully Gueira manages to get on his feet without collapsing. He shuffles off to the bathroom, insisting that he'll be fine by himself. Meis lets Gueira take care of the rest, knowing he'll call if he needs help. He figures Gueira hasn't eaten yet, and decides to take this time to start making breakfast or rather brunch.

He was pleasantly surprised to see the fridge stocked with food and not just beer with hotdogs. He finds eggs, bacon, some potatoes, even a few peppers, and onions. He grabs the nearby apron, another surprise, and gets to cooking.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long for Gueira to shuffle into the living room, as hears the man flop onto the couch with a groan.

“Hey, how do you like your eggs?” Meis calls from the nearby kitchen.

“Fried, scrambled, sunny-side, as long as it ain't too runny, I don't care.”

“Noted.”

Gueira doesn't exactly fall asleep, as exhausted as he felt, but rather fazed out. Riding the line of consciousness and sleep, but not able to fall asleep. He was aware of the chill of his couch, the smell of all the things Meis was making, the dredge of time slowly passing, and the aches in his body.

Soon enough Gueira is presented with a bowl of skillet fried potatoes, topped with a fried egg and bacon. The smell alone made his stomach demand a taste. After getting situated comfortably, he takes a bite and the heavens open up. While it wasn't anything particularly extraordinary, the flavor held more meaning to it, merely on the fact that it was made by Meis.

Meis watches as the man slowly gobbles down his cooking with immense concealed joy.

“Good?” He asks between bites of his own helping.

“Holy shit, dude.” The other praises with a full cheek. “If this is what you do for breakfast, I can't wait for lunch and dinner.”

The dark-haired man merely absorbs the praise, with a self-assured smirk as he chews.

The afternoon remains uneventful; after Meis cleans the kitchen he settles on the couch with Gueira to pass the time with Netflix. Somewhere between episodes, Gueira dozes off as noted by his snoring.

Meis felt a little weird staring at Gueira so intently as he slept. It was relieving to see him get a little sleep, considering how tired he looked. His sleeping face was new to Meis, and it was adorable. Those long eyelashes, with his peaceful expression, his mouth agape as drool ran down his chin.

“Dork.” He mumbles softly with a mirthful smirk, turning his attention back to the screen.

–

The week passes, Gueira's condition is unsteady. One day he feels great, the next day he is back to being exhausted. Gueira is more than aware that it's a part of the process, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. Still, having Meis by his side through it all did make it better going along. For Meis, he didn't mind being Gueira's helping hand, even if his unsettled feelings for him arose frequently.

Throughout the day, he kept sneaking lengthy glances at Gueira. The man was getting noticeably scruffier, his hair messier and stubble started peeking through his chin, combining into a rather sexy look on him. He knew it was weird to think that with the current situation, but there was no helping it. Normally the concept of rug-burn from scruff was unappealing to him, but if it was Gueira...

“God fucking damnit!” Gueira hisses, roughly rubbing his hand through his hair. He had been staring down at his laptop for the last four hours trying to get some semblance of work done.

As far as Meis knows, Gueira is on a mixture of sick leave and allowed to work from home. Of which, he knows isn't conducive to his health right now. He lets Gueira take care of some things to help keep him in a good head-space, however he can plainly see Gueira was not in good head-space.

“Hey, take a break,” Meis suggests coolly, sitting beside him with a full basket of freshly dried clothes.

Gueira shoots a look back at Meis with rebuttal ready on his tongue, but it dies as soon as Meis cocks his brow, giving the other man a look that says 'Try me'. He was too tired mentally and physically to bother and argue. He heaves a sigh and decides to close his laptop, focusing his attention to folding his cleaned clothes. He may have been tired, but he wanted the satisfaction of getting at least one thing done that day. The pair silently fold clothes until Gueira asks...

“So tell me about yourself.”

“Huh?”

“I realize I don't know much about you.” He continues, “Hell, up until a few days ago I didn't even know you were second in command of the Mad Burnish. Six months of knowing you and I didn't even know something that important.”

“'M not exactly an open book dude.”

“I know, but...” He sighs, and gives the man next to him an earnest look. “I don't want to call you my friend, and not know important things like that.”

Meis sees the seriousness behind those red eyes and understands what he's truly asking. Gueira wants Meis to open up to him a little more. Meis knows quite a lot about the red-head, making things rather uneven between the two. So, maybe it was time to even things out a bit.

“Alright, what do you wanna know?”

Gueira pauses folding for a moment, scratching his chin in thought. “Is your name really Meis?”

“Yep.”

“Really!? I thought your real name would be Mason or some shit.”

“It used to be, but then I learned you can just change your name, so I did.”The other man shrugs.

“Heh, just like that huh?” He grins. “So, are you actually from Dallas?”

“Yes and no, I lived in Dallas for a while, but I'm not originally from there. Stephenville, ain't exactly a sexy stage name.”

“Pfft, yeah.” Gueira puts on his best Lucia impression. “Now dazzling the main stage the salaciously sexy outlaw...Stephenville!”

The pair burst out laughing, both at the name and Gueira's horrible impression of Lucia. The afternoon continues like that, with Meis answering Gueira's burning questions, like how he met Lio.

“You went to boarding school?!” Gueira exclaimed, pulling a card from the deck.

“Music scholarship.” Meis discards two cards, and draws two more, giving himself a winning hand. “I could've gone to high school in Dallas, or Stephenville. Which did you think sounded cooler to a teenager?”

How he and Lio joined the Mad Burnish.

“So Lio jumped into the fray, not knowing the guy was an undercover cop, and I wasn't gonna let him go in alone.” He recalls, stirring the simmering chicken and vegetables in the bubbling gravy.

“Holy shit.” Gueira whispers in awe, as he watches Meis make pot pies. “So then what?”

“Wrecked shit and ran, we later learned it was a sting to frame the leader at the time. Needless to say...”

And how he ended up a stripper.

“So, after Lio brought it up, I told him I'd think about it.” Meis watches Gueira enthusiastically savor each bite of his chicken pot pie with a lop-sided smile. “My relationship was pretty much over, my music career was going nowhere, my job sucked, and my apartment was full of roaches. I packed my shit and took off towards Promepolis.”

“Just like that?” Gueira chews through his last bite.

“Just like that.” Meis' smile grows wider. He stands and starts taking up the empty plates to the sink filled with dishes.

“Wait, I can do that!” Gueira protests, rising from his seat.

“It's fine, the dishwasher is gonna do most of the work.”

“I know, but you did enough today. I don't need you pretendin' to be my wife.”

“Pfft, trust me  _ darlin'  _ it's gonna take more than a few chores to turn this hoe into a housewife.” He jests sarcastically as he loads the dishwasher.

“Heh, whatever you say  _ babe. _ ” The other man snickers.

Meis ignores the light strum of his heart, it was only a joke. He fights to hide a smitten smile that threatened to curl his lips, merely at the sound of Gueira calling him 'babe'. There was no denying the past week was filled with an air of domesticity between the two. Meis would come in late in the morning, feed Gueira, take care of any chores, spend the afternoon with him, make dinner, and then head off to work or back home. He didn't hate it, quite the contrary actually.

“ _ I'd do this everyday for him if I could,”  _ The thought froze him mid-pan-in-dish-rack.

Just now, why did he think that?

He doesn't dwell on it, writing it off as a passing thought. Once the kitchen was cleaned, Meis gets ready to head out to the club for the night.

“Have a good night at work  _ babe _ .” Gueira snickered teasingly from the couch.

“See ya,  _ hon'. _ ” Meis replies with a smooth chortle.

–

Their little banter and the intrusive thought from earlier occupies his mind, even as he arrives at the club. He tells himself it's nothing, but it's hard to say it's nothing when it feels like something.

As he steps into the dressing, he's greeted by Lio putting on his makeup. The blonde sees his friend in the mirror and smiles knowingly.

“Done playing housewife for the day?” He slyly chuckles.

Meis scrunches his face in annoyance, “I ain't playin' housewife! I'm lookin' after a good friend.”

“Ah, could've fooled me, especially with that apron.” He teases, gestures to Meis' attire.

Sure enough, Meis looks down and realizes he is indeed still wearing Gueira's apron. He snatches it off and shoves it in his locker with a huff. He doesn't face Lio as he gets ready, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of seeing the full bloom of red in his cheeks.

–

A few more days have passed and Gueira still feels like shit. His strength and energy was returning bit by bit, but it was still difficult for him to maintain his daily life without getting exhausted. Meaning Meis would come by nearly everyday, to keep him company and take care of chores or errands.

If Gueira could describe his current situation it would be, a personal hell disguised as a piece of heaven.

He watches limply from the couch, Meis smoking from the balcony of his apartment, his lower half wrapped in sensuous leggings. The lanky man leans along the railing, his shapely ass and legs commanding Gueira's attention. Ruby eyes trail up to gaze upon Meis' slender pale nape revealed by the high ponytail.

His flesh was willing, as faint arousal twitched in his dick, however the body was weak, as exhaustion weighed on him like a 500-pound blanket. It didn't matter anyway, the lovely sight was soured by the blooming trail of love-bites along his neck and shoulders, a reminder to Gueira of who Meis' heart belonged to.

The bittersweet joy of having Meis so close, always mixing with the pain of having him out of reach.

Meis strolls back inside, and Gueira attempts to make room on the couch, he drags himself upright propping himself up by his elbows. Meis seeing the effort decides to sit on the space made for him, even though he's aware there's a recliner right next to the couch, he doesn't want Gueira's efforts to go to waste.

Once comfortably seated on the couch, Gueira's elbows give out and his head plops into Meis' lap.

“S-sorry, just give me a minute.” He utters weakly, today wasn't a particularly good energy day for him, better than previous days, but not by much.

“I-it's fine.” He reassures, gently patting the mound of red-hair. “I've had my ass in your lap, this ain't nothing.”

The lines had blurred between them in terms of personal space. Many times Gueira would lean on Meis, or loop an arm around his neck, then there were times Meis would ruffle that fluffy head, or pat his back. Those casual touches meant almost nothing, however as Gueira's head rests in his lap, to Meis it felt intimate.

The living room was quiet save for the outside noises. Normally the TV would play some mindless video, or the music would play in the background. However, just the moment Gueira wanted some quiet. The afternoon light reflected off of the blank TV, bouncing from the framed jerseys of football players Meis knew little about. The game consoles and its modest library sit neatly aligned along the entertainment case with the TV. Meis thinks in passing he might give Monster Hunter a try again, Gueira seemed to be entertained by how bad he was at it.

Mindlessly Meis' slender fingers sink into soft, curly locks, gently massaging in comforting strokes, earning a pleased sigh. Meis glances around the living room, noting the table of photos, the ceiling fan, and the gatcha toy collection scattered about, he thinks about dusting later in the week. He sees the little plant trying to survive on the balcony, that might need some watering. His mind runs through the little chores to do, a drifting thought passes...

“ _ I might as well start living here, I'm doing most of the housework...” _ Again he finds himself screeching those musings to a halt.

He quickly reminds himself, he's here to help make things easier for Gueira, his runaway feelings had no place here.

“Hey...do you have work?” Gueira quietly asks.

“Not tonight, why?”

“I was thinking...”

“A dangerous pastime for you.” That snark earned Meis a weak flick to his knee.

“I was thinking, you know you can always stay the night,” He offers, with a shrug “...when you don't have work or after work, if you want.”

Meis looks down to Gueira's face peering up at him, unable to pinpoint the exact expression he was making.

“I guess that wouldn't be bad.” He scratches his cheek, not letting his mind jump to conclusions. “This couch is kinda comfy.”

“Yeah, you could take the couch if you want, but...”He trails off, shyly meeting the Meis' gaze. “...my bed can fit both of us.”

Silence again encompasses the room. Meis frantically tries to keep the thought of sharing a bed with Gueira at bay, whilst mentally scolding himself for making this weird when it didn't have to be.

“I-I mean, I'd feel bad for making you take the couch when you're going out of your way for me.” Gueira explains, his eyes avoiding Meis gaze. “I just thought spending the nights here would be easier, ya know, save some gas.”

Meis pretends to mull over the offer. He's aware of all the traveling he's doing, but the last thing he wants is to give his feelings an opportunity to grow into something that could not be maintained. Notwithstanding the occasional bouts of sex with Thyma, Meis could feel the warmth for Gueira growing, and it starting to get harder to deny that something was more lurking in his heart.

He starts to reply, only to look down at that handsome face tilted up at him, hopeful ruby eyes seemed to softly plead to him. The denial of the invitation hung on his tongue, only to drop off and become...

“Eh, sure why not.” It was at that moment Meis was wondering what the flying fuck was wrong with him.

“Awesome you can stay tonight if you want, I got sweats you can wear.”

Meis gives a mild hum in response, his mind preoccupied with attempting to rationalize his behavior.

“Hey...can I make a weird request?”

“Depends, how weird?”

The red-head hesitates for a moment, curling and uncurling his fingers, “Could you sing for me? It kinda helps me feel better.”

Suddenly something dawned on Meis. He had noticed for while that Gueira had been despondent as of late. Understandably so, he's been stuck at home with an extended bout of exhaustion keeping him from completing basic housekeeping and self-care. If anything, having Meis around kept his spirits up, if only for a while. If that should be the case, Meis was happy to oblige.

“Me singin' for ya ain't a weird request.” He chuckles, happy for the distraction and to be a distraction. “Anything you wanna hear?”

“I wanna hear more of your songs, ya know, the original version.” He smiles softly.

After a short pause, the room is soon filled with Meis voice, the soft melodic tune carries a gentle somber tone. Gueira can feel the oppressive weight of his mind ease gently, raising his mood. One song became two, and then three. Somewhere between it all Gueira feels himself at peace, his head resting in the lap of the man his heart yearns for. The smooth tone of Meis' voice lulls him into space between sleep and consciousness, his fingers laced in Gueira's hair.

To have Meis all to himself like this, even if it was temporary, it was bliss. They would laugh at dumb videos, make insider-jokes, exchange old stories from their lives. Every day he could pretend that he and Meis were a couple, sharing the same space, sharing a life. However, he knew it would all stop one day; his strength would return, and the usual routine would continue. Well, until another bout of exhaustion hit, but having that be a condition for Meis' constant presence felt like a monkey's paw. Still...

“Hey, babe,” Gueira interrupts quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Can you make that recipe I sent you?”

“The one with the chicken and black beans?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, babe.” Meis grins as he hears the happy hum from Gueira. “Want me to keep singing?”

“Yeah.”

Still, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Eventually, a savory dinner was enjoyed between the two, and the evening was spent watching Meis struggle to capture an angry Rathalos. The hour becomes late and Gueira decides it's time for bed. He weakly rises from the couch, and begins to pad over his room, looking back he sees Meis ponder on the couch. Blue-eyes are trained on the ceiling, decisively weighing his options. Gueira doesn't say anything, not wanting to push Meis in one way or another, or sound needy when the man has given him more than enough already. Instead, he silently hopes that Meis would consider his invitation. The silence stretches for a while longer, Gueira lingering for a moment until deciding it was best that he shouldn't stare at Meis like a hungry dog pleading for food.

From his room, Gueira can hear the lanky man finally rise from his seat. Carefully he listens for footsteps, step by step he hears Meis getting further from his room until he hears the sound of the front-door open then close. A sadness weighs on his body, he sighs and leaves it be.

As Gueira pulls his shirt over his head, he misses the tapping sound approaching his room. Turning around he's startled by Meis leaning against his door frame.

“I don't feel like driving home tonight.” He states plainly with a yawn.

Gueira feels the disappointment lift from his heart, as he watches Meis head over to the bathroom. The sound of water pours from the shower and a small smirk lifts tanned cheeks.

Just a little longer, just for the night.

–

The next morning Meis awakens to a mop of red hair tickling his nose, and something wet sticking to his shirt. Sure enough, Gueira was snuggled into his chest, cheek squished against him, as drool was absorbed into his shirt. Pairs of tanned arms and legs wrap protectively around Meis, capturing the heat between them.

There's a part of Meis that is genuinely happy to wake up like this, and a part of him that is confused by the joy he feels. Even when he's awoken next to past lovers he's never felt like this, hell even waking up next to Thyma or Lio has yet to pull this sort of emotion. So why? Why when it's with Gueira does he feel like this?

Looking down at his peaceful face, a surge of emotions swell in his heart. Without thinking, he carefully hugs the sleeping man tightly in his arms. He buries his face into soft curls, deeply inhaling Gueira's scent and shampoo, of spiced soap and smoky musk. It all feels so wonderful, so warm, so right. He feels something overflowing in his heart, threatening to spill out of his mouth. Something he feels isn't true, but somehow would make sense of it all.

Not wanting to delve deeper into such emotions, Meis quietly pries himself free of Gueira and dresses quickly. He needs to get out for a while, clear his head. He quietly creeps towards the door to leave, only to look back at Gueira’s sleeping, who rolls on his back with a snort. Meis ignores his heart's desire to crawl back into bed and silently exits, leaving a text for Gueira saying he'll be back later.

–

The afternoon sun washes a calm over Meis' frazzled heart and head. The cool air whips around him as Meis hastily rides over to the cafe he usually frequents. He steps in, and the scent of coffee fills his nose, the lobby scarce with customers, but one familiar face stands out in the line, Thyma.

“Done playing housewife for today?” She slyly teases as he approaches.

Meis quickly looks down to make sure he's not wearing the apron again, then gives Thyma an unamused look, “Why does everyone say that?”

“Because you practically live there now. Boss tells me he's hardly seen you these past two weeks.”

“Because Gueira is sick.” He reminds staunchly.

“And you're also lovesick.” She smirks.

Meis leans over to whisper smoothly to Thyma, “Keep that up, and might have to punish you later for that.”

Thyma's face instantly flushes a deep red.

It doesn't take the two long to wind up at Thyma's place, and it takes even less time for things to get hot and heavy. Then it all goes wrong. The mind can wander, even in the most heated of moments.

While Meis' eyes trailed along Thyma's glistening bronzed skin and thick hair, he is reminded of one other person. He desperately tries to focus on fucking the woman beneath him, but his dick swells at the thought of Gueira writhing under him. The runaway fantasy causes his hips to snap forward with a quickening pace. His cock throbs at the image of Gueira bouncing away happily on his dick. Meis feels a tingling pleasure mounting at the thought of plunging himself deeply into Gueira's hot tightening hole. His climax drove him to whisper in a shuddering breath.

“Gueira.”

\--

Mortified and ashamed, Meis refuses to unearth himself from his pillowy fortress. He hopes if he stays there long enough he could suffocate and that would be the end of it.

“Meis...it's okay.” Thyma attempts to coax her embarrassed bedmate from under the pillow.

“NH IHS NOH!!!”

“I mean...” She trails off, not sure how to spin this to be reassuring. Calling out someone else's name, in your partner's bed, and cumming first is a bad look. For Thyma, it was heartbreaking.

“Meis, you can't hide anymore, literally and figuratively.” Her voice is soft, but stern, as she manages to wrestle the pillow from Meis' grasp. “You've got feelings you have to deal with.”

He sighs, turning his head to face Thyma, his hair thinly veiled his face. “You're right, can't hide from it anymore.”

Thyma smiles, bitter-sweetness in her heart, as she watches Meis finally come to terms with his feelings.

He sits up, allowing his head to rest against the headboard. “I gotta fuck him.”

Her brow knits in confusion, “...what?”

“Just once, I gotta fuck him. My mind is hung up on the idea of being with him instead of the reality. If I sleep with him just once, that should shatter the illusion, and all these feelings should vanish.”

Thyma's head flops into the held pillow, weary of this man and his mental gymnastics. Meis is a lost cause, and God help Gueira should he ever decide to confess his feelings, because he has fallen for an idiot. Then again, so did she.

–

Another week and a half passes, and Gueira finally feels like himself again. Three days of consistent wellness marking a departure of fatigue, of aches, and mental fog. At least for a while.

“So, you sure you're okay, it's not one of those good today and feeling like shit mountain the next?” Meis asks tentatively, strolling Gueira's side.

The pair decide to have a walk around the neighborhood after Gueira heavily insists on not being cooped up again for another day. The weather definitely called for it, with the warm sun, the crisp air, and lovely clear azure skies.

“Yep, feelin' 110% baby!” Gueira chirps happily, positively bursting with energy. “Want me to prove it? I'll race ya, here and now.”He challenges jogging in place a bit.

“I'll pass,” He reels away a bit giving Gueira a dry look. “Just trying to make sure you're okay.”

“Yeah, I know. My body is...a bit weird.”

“Everyone's body is weird, but I get what you're saying.”

“I mean...” Gueira pauses for a minute, his voice becomes serious. “...this happens a few times out of the year, and there ain't much I can do about it. So...”

“So, I'll just help you out again.” Meis reminds sternly, stopping in his tracks. He glares at his friend with unwavering passion. “No matter how often, no matter how long you're out for, I'll be there, and I mean it.”

Gueira stares back at Meis, words sinking in. Many people have said those things to Gueira, when Meis says it, he could feel the dedication and determination like a weight. Still, the reality could be different and so doubt lingered...

“What if...” He glances down, uncertainty laced in his voice. “...what if I don't get better?”

Without skipping a beat, Meis throws his arms around him giving him a reassuring smile. “Guess me and Lucia can make you a scooter, a badass one, with flames. So you can hang out on your good days, or something like that, I'll figure it out. Can't leave you behind, right?”

Whether that was possible or not, didn't matter to Gueira, it was more the meaning behind it. He'd work with him, work around him, and stay with him, no matter what.

“Meis...” Blinking back tears, he gives his own wide smile. “Heh, I think I'd rather have Lucia handle that than you, fuckin' thing might explode.”

That earns a headlock from Meis as he scrubs his knuckles harshly against Gueira's head. “You asshole! I'll have you know I used to work as a mechanic back in Texas since I was 14, I modded my own bike to be fast and street legal.”

“Augh, fuck, fine sorry! Sorry!” He laughs, wriggling out of Meis' grasp. “Your bedside manner is still shit, is this how you treat people who are just recovering?”

“Only if they're bein' a little shit.” He smirks haughtily.

The pair continue their lively bickering, taking moments to rest and enjoy the scenery of the city. Smoking on the bridge near the river, watching the people pass by. They talked on the roof of an old warehouse turned strip-mall, staring out over the horizon hearing the pigeons coo and flutter by, while the windows of tall buildings shimmered in the sun. The sun sets, and the pair find a hole-in-the-wall diner, with some amazing sandwiches and killer beer.

All the while Gueira comes to a conclusion, a bittersweet thought that had been buzzing in his head since Meis told him he'd be there for him.

Gueira was in love with Meis, and could never have him.

Meis was not his to have, and not his to take. To have by his side in sickness or in health, to hang out with him whether strolling through the city or watching him sensuously dancing on the pole, this was all Gueira could have of Meis. He wished it was enough, he wanted to be satisfied with this, but his heart yearned for more. More of that night at the bar, more Meis in his home, making him dinner, sharing his bed, sharing his life, and not just as a friend.

While that thought crushed his heart he knew he was better than the alternative. The last thing he wanted was to hear Meis reject his feelings and complicate their friendship. No, it was better to leave things as is.

The night settles in the sky, and the weary pair finally make it back to Gueira's apartment.

“Augh, finally back, my feet are killing me!” Gueira complains loudly. He looks over to Meis, his face holds an unreadable expression. “You gonna head back Meis?”

Meis looks back at him, his expression still rather vague, but there is something behind his eyes that Gueira can't quite identify. As if to ask a question Meis softly answers, “I... don't wanna go home yet.”

Gueira swears he hears something sultry behind his voice, but ignores it. “I don't mind you stayin'.” He shrugs.

Meis only nods, and the two head into Gueira's apartment. Soon they're settled on the couch, half an episode into a show they had been binging. Suddenly, Gueira is aware of how close Meis is sitting, it doesn't bother him, or the fact that his arm is lingering behind him on the couch, yet he couldn't shake that something felt off.

Suddenly the TV pauses and Meis is staring at him intently, eyes smoldering.

Gueira gulps, “Um, did you want to watch something else?”

Meis scoots a little closer, eyes still locked to the man beside him, a small smirk stretching his lips. “I'd rather do something else.” Meis’ voice is smooth and low, his knuckle gently brushes a stray curl.

“Oh, um, we could play a game, y-you wanna take another shot at Monster Hunter?” The red-head's voice quivers, his heart thundering in his chest as Meis leans in closer.

“Something else.”

“I-I still have a pack of cards, we can play Gin or Poker.” The heat rises to his face as Meis cups his cheek, thumbing his chin.

“Something else.” Meis’ other hand slowly runs along Gueira's thigh, his lips a hair away.

“Um we--” Finally Meis' lips capture Gueira's leaving the other man stunned.

Lips gently smack, kisses short and tender. Gueira's mind runs a thousand miles an hour, as Meis kisses become more and more eager. Meis tongue softly flickers against Gueira's lip and the red-head opens his mouth letting the other's tongue slide in to tangle with his own.

Gueira sinks into the couch, letting himself hungrily kiss Meis back, conflict and guilt being drowned out by the heat roaring in his ears and Meis quiet moans. Hands roam impatiently, trailing down a slender back, running down his sides, groping plush ass cheeks, earning pleased grunts from Meis as he nips along Gueira's neck.

Meis' hand deftly drifts down Gueira's chest to his belly eventually pausing to undo his belt. Deep drawl hoarsely whispers, “Y'all want some more, hmm?”

“Yeah.” The man beneath him quickly rasps, breath hitching as Meis strokes him gently through his boxers.

“I see, tell me what you want.” He teases, soft kisses inching along his neck and jaw, he gently pinches the plush tip.

Gueira's voice catches in his throat, his hips buck trying to add more friction to torturous teasing. “Fuck Meis, anythin’, everythin’, whatever you got for me, I want it, I want you.” He pleads desperately.

He feels silk hairs tickle his neck, Meis' sultry drawl in his ears once more. “Y'all want me to ride ya? Spread myself open for ya, get my ass nice an’ wet for ya? Y'all want that? My tight ass working yer cock. How 'bout it? Y'all wanna see cummin' on just yer cock? Hmmm, Gueira?”

Gueira's brow knit, bottom lip pinched between his teeth, his cock throbbing at Meis' dirty promises.

Meis continues his voice getting rougher with each passing breath, as his fingers lightly massaging the clothed twitching dick. “Maybe if y'all 're sweet ta me, I'll fuck ya. I'd do it ya know, I'll fuck you how ever ya want me. Y'all want that? Ya want me to fuck ya, hard and deep, hit all yer little good spots, till I got you cummin' with yer toes curled?”

“Shit!” Gueira's breathing becomes shuddered and shallow, his body jolts and quivers.

Meis reels back, watching wide-eyed as the red-head writhe with pleasure, hips rolling whilst a growing patch of cum stains his boxer. He drinks it all in, the sounds of his keening whine, his face flush and twisted by orgasm, and all for him.

“Holy shit...” The paler man utters in quiet astonishment. If this is what he can do to Gueira just by teasing him, he cannot wait to see what happens when he truly devours him.

Meis' thoughts come to a halt as he's shoved off, Gueira abruptly, yet wobbly, rushing to the bathroom. The door harshly slams and from the living room he hears angry swearing and the sound of the bathroom being torn apart. Meis stares down the hall with concern as he hears, what sounds like the shower-curtain falling apart and Gueira falling in the tub.

It goes quiet after that.

Too quiet.

Meis finally decides to approach the bathroom, hoping Gueira hadn't knocked himself unconscious. He's relieved when shuffling is heard from behind the door. He's about to knock when the door suddenly flings open. Gueira stands before him, eyes not meeting his, clearly embarrassed for himself, but his demeanor has seemed to change.

“Hey, listen don't worry about... _ that _ .” Meis starts sympathetically, “I'm still game if yo--.”

“Get out!”

“Wha...”

“I said get out!” Gueira demands again, this time sounding more hurt than angry.

Meis suddenly is filled with dread and guilt, realizing things may have not been as consensual as they were implied. “Oh. Oh, uhm, shit. Listen, I'm so sorry. I really thought you wanted to jump my bone back there.”

“I do, I mean I did, damnit--!” Gueira groans in frustration, a hand scrubbing through his hair. “I want to, but I can't, not like this.”

There's a short pause, Meis is visibly perplexed, his head cocking to the side. “What do you mean?”

“The hell do you mean?! You have a fucking girlfriend, you asshole!!”

There's another pause, before Meis replies, “Who?”

“Motherfu--Thyma, ya cheatin' bastard!!”

Yet another pause as Meis frowns in confusion. “Thyma ain't my girlfriend, dude.”

By this point, Gueira is bewildered by Meis' utter denial of his own lover, which only makes the red-head angrier, as he wonders has Meis been an asshole this whole time. “Bullshit! I've seen you two be all lovey-dovey, I've seen you kiss her and you've been showin' up at my place with hickeys on your neck!”

Meis holds up his hands, trying to explain to the other man. “Okay, I know what it looks like, but we aren't actually dating, I mean we have had sex on occasions--”

“Oh fuck off!”

“No listen, I can prove it!”

Before Gueira could call bullshit, Meis is grabbing his phone and dialing Thyma. The other line rings and a voice is heard on the other end.

“We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again.”

While Gueira glares unimpressed, Meis stares at his phone in concerned alarm, again he dials only to get the same robotic drone.

Something is wrong.

No longer worried about getting laid, he dials Lio, who picks up immediately. “Boss, is Thyma working tonight?”

_ “She's supposed to, but she hasn't come in yet, and she hasn't called either.” _

Meis' feet start to carry him to the door, stomach heavy with dread as an awful possibility springs to mind “I'm headin' over to her apartment. I'll call if something is up.”

“Wait!” Meis turns to see Gueira behind him, stomping his shoes on. “I'm coming with you. This sounds serious, and I ain't letting ya go alone.”

Meis gives a small smile, happy to know Gueira is always ready to have his back. “Thanks.”

“Oh don't thank me yet, if it turns out you're a cheatin' dick, I'm kickin' your ass, and then I'm gonna hold ya down and to let Thyma kick your ass.”

–

It doesn't take long for the pair to arrive at Thyma's apartment building. Meis briskly walks in, his phone to his ear once more as Gueira tails close behind. The same droning voice echoes once more. Meis impatiently mashes the elevator button until chime pings and the doors slide open.

While the elevator chugs to its destination, Gueira watches apprehensively as the other man's face is stone, and his body rigged in distress. Although Gueira is certain Meis doesn't deserve Thyma, or him for that matter, he can tell that he does still care for her greatly. The minute the doors slide open Meis striding through with unyielding purpose.

The halls are quiet, with muffled life heard behind a few doors. However, as every door is closed for the night, one can be seen that is not. Meis rushes to that door, and shoves it open, only to get one foot in before he stops short.

The apartment is trashed. Thyma's belongings overturned, thrown ashtray, some broken with great force, but Thyma is nowhere to be seen.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe I've been at this fic for a whole year plus, and y'all still here commenting, leaving kudos, hell I got some of y'all cosplaying this! Let be it known y'all are some real ones! Like, I am so damn happy that this is making y'all happy! MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY HANUKAH! HAPPY BOXING DAY!
> 
> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin (18+ only). You're welcome to scream at me about my fic there. Other folks sure have.


	12. Destruction Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you teach reptiles, arachnids, and insects about homosexual copulation? Somewhat like this?
> 
> First and foremost, thank you all so so so much for the comments and kudos. They really put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going.
> 
> Secondly, I will be updating tags as I go. So, please pay attention to those as I update.
> 
> Third, thank you for your patience. The world feels a little saner, but we ain't out the woods yet. So keep your head up, pace yourself, and stay safe.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to HollyJolly for beta-ing this fic once and to the BangBangBurn Discord that screamed out this idea. You guys are awesome!

The pair of men carefully survey the ransacked apartment, paying caution to not trip or accidentally crush belongings underfoot. Then again, practically everything was already broken. The kitchenware thrown about, the leftover food, drinks, and condiments painted the walls. The couch tipped over with slashes and gashes ripped through the upholstery. The television sported a large dent in its screen, as well as the walls, all throughout the apartment. The night breeze enters with ease through shattered windows. Meis continued to look around, noting that every room and furnishing had some sort of damage done to it, it was clear this destruction was done out of rage. However, once he stepped into Thyma's bedroom it was clear this room had the most damage done to it. The bed, its sheet, and pillows were all ripped and torn. The mirror was shattered, while the drawers ripped out its dresser as the clothing inside reeked of piss and the underwear stained with...what Meis could only assume to be semen.

“ That sick bastard.” He spat, his anger seething like a boiling volcano.

“ Hey.” Gueira makes himself known from behind, his tone serious. “I can tell this wasn't a robbery, and it doesn't look like there was a fight. Did you piss someone off? Cause I can't for the life of me think of anyone who would want to hurt Thyma.”

“ I can.” Meis growls lowly. “Thyma's piss-ant of an ex.”

Meis wasn't 100 percent certain what kind of guy Reus was, he seemed like the kind of man who'd hide his true nature. Looking around now, he'd say the man was calculating, and violent, which made worry for Thyma all the more. He tries once more to phone the missing woman, and again the same droning message echoes back to him.

“ Hey,” Gueira calls out again, resting a comforting hand on Meis' shoulder. “We're not gonna find her quicker standing here and hoping she picks up. Start calling some Mad Burnish and let's get a search party going.”

Meis nods and the pair heading out of the apartment. As the pair exit through the door, they see a man towards the end of the hallway. The man stops short as his eyes meet Meis'.

“ REUS!!!” The other man roars.

Reus bolts back down the hall and crash into the closed elevator door. He rapidly mashes the button to call for the elevator, Gueira's and Meis' footsteps stomping heavily towards him. The elevators slide open, and Reus feels the back of his shirt being yanked as he's shoved into the elevator. His back hit the solid floor, Meis' boot harshly stomping down on his chest. Reus looks up, eyes wide with fear as Meis leans down with a harsh chilling tone to ask...

“ Where. Is. Thyma.”

–

The breeze cools her wet cheeks, lip pinched between her teeth. She sips her coffee in an attempt to drown the emotions tightening her throat. From the bridge, Thyma looks out to the Promepolis, shimmering lights of the cityscape reflect off the river below. One last time, she stared out to the city, the place where she spent her last few years rebuilding her life, making new friends, working somewhere she never in a million years would consider, enjoying her life, her home.

Tears threaten to spill out once more, she quickly wipes them away, sadly her coffee slips from her grip, she fumbles it only for the cup to spill, tumbling into the river below. Her head thuds onto the concrete railing, she shakily breathes out the frustration and regret building in her chest.

“ No, no regrets.” She whispers, attempting to steel her nerves. “I can come back...”

She spent the better half of the week building up the resolve to leave, even skipped out on work without telling Lio or Meis. She wasn't going to back down, she needed to leave. Reus was closing in on her, it was only a matter of time before he found her again. It was best to leave now, while she had control.

She grabs her backpack and nestles it onto her shoulders, and approaches her waiting scooter. It was hitched with a small trailer carrying a large suitcase of her belongings. Thyma slips on her helmet, the engine rumbles to life and off she rides to the interstate.

  
  


The expansive road spread out dark and empty, the high beam of her bike cutting through the night before her. The cold breeze kicks up the dust of the rough wastelands surrounding her. Thyma's mind occupied with thoughts on how to explain to Lio and Meis why she left, a conversation she was not looking forward to. Best to do it sooner than later, lest they'd have the entirety of the Mad Burnish combing the city for her. She chuckles at the ridiculous thought, all that trouble for a cowardly woman like her.

She redirects her self-loathing back onto concentrating on the road. She notes the pick up truck resting on the side of the road coming into view. As she passes it by, she realizes it looks familiar, and against better judgment, she pulls over. She removes her helmet, and glances back at the vehicle behind her. Even at night she knew it well, she had ridden in it before and she had seen it passing along the streets of Promepolis, fortunately without the driver inside. A faint scream echoes through the night along with other voices. Amidst the sandy, rocky terrain a dim light shone in the distant, the same direction of the voices.

She knew that was Reus' truck, and had a strong hunch about those voices. Thyma revs her engine towards the beaming light and voices, all the while planning her exit strategy if need be.

  
  


“ I— _ huff _ \--already told you! I don't know where she is!” Reus cries out panicked, arms and legs bound by rope, and face painfully swollen and bruised.

Miami's headlights blindly beam onto Meis and Gueira, casting threatening shadows as they hovered over the helpless man. Meis sneers down at him, a lit cigarette tucked between his lip, Gueira beside him with an equally fierce look.

The pair kidnapped the man and stole his truck, dragging him out to the darkened wastelands miles away from civilization. If Reus was cooperative, they would keep the beating minimal and leave him in the desert with a jug of water. If Reus was uncooperative, they'd beat him senseless and leave him in the desert with a bottle of water. Right now, he was looking pretty uncooperative.

Meis kneels down, gripping the man harshly by his short hair, jerking his head to meet his fierce visage. “Alright then, so you don't know where Thyma is, yet you know where she lives,”Meis yanks the man closer, exhaling a plume of smoke, his Southern drawl teetering between icy cold, and boiling rage. “Despite the fact you ain't suppose to know to that!”

Meis slams Reus' head into the sandy rock rubbing his face into the abrasive terrain. “So, why were you at her apartment?!”

The trapped man sputters and coughs, before finally choking up an answer. “S-She invited me over! I swear!” He pants, trying to catch his breath to calm down. “I didn't know her apartment got wrecked!”

There was a lengthy pause, before Meis in a soothing searing tone responded with...

“ Funny, I don't remember tellin' y'all about Thyma's apartment. How'd ya know that?”

“ I know how he knows” Gueira speaks up, and tosses something at Meis' foot. “I found this underneath some broken drywall.”

The other picks the object, a wallet, flipping it open a familiar face in the ID slot.“Well, lookee here. This you?” Meis holds the wallet to Reus face, he hears the man audibly gulp at his own guilt blankly staring back at him.

Reus attempts to voice his innocence, but the growing fear in his tone and trembling does little to convince the dangerous pair.“L-Listen, fellas, t-there's a perfectly good— _ oof _ !”

Meis once again drives the man's face into the ground below, his thin patience prevalent in the rough treatment of his captive.

“ What on Earth are you two doing!?” Thyma's voice rings out to the dubious scene. Her scooter dramatically skids to a halt, parking the bike she swiftly removes her helmet and begins to approach them.

“ Thyma!” The trio cry out in relief. Meis abandons Reus to give the woman a tight hug, completely missing the slight fall of Gueira's face. The fluffy-haired man expected the reunited couple to share a tender kiss, but was surprised to hear a yelp from the lankier man as Thyma kicked his shin.

“ I told you to let me handle this!” She scolded, fists balled at her sides.

Cradling his leg Meis snaps back, “Well fuck me fer bein' worried about ya! How would I  _ not _ assume this jackass had anything to do with you not picking up yer phone!”

He gestures over to Reus, still tied up on the dirt with Gueira looming over him.

“ I told you two I didn't have anything to do with this!”

“ Shaddap!” Gueira stomps his head back into the dirt. “You still wrecked her apartment shithead!”

“ THAT'S ENOUGH!” The woman screams in frustration. All three men stare back in varying states of shock, as Thyma digs her palms into her eyes as if to block the tears from flowing out. “God, Reus why couldn't you just LEAVE ME ALONE?!”

In a mistaken attempt to soothe her Reus replies with sickly, warped tenderness, “Because I love you...”

Her hands drop limply to her sides and stares blankly at the shimmering sky above. “You...love me...?” She mutters aloud with an eerie disbelief.

“ O-Of course, I mean, we weren't perfect and we made some mistakes, but we were us.”

Both Meis and Gueira wanted so badly to break his jaw for that level of bullshit, but held back when Thyma began to step towards the man.

“ Was it love, when you stole money from me? Was it love, when you said I was overreacting? When you got me into debt!? When you coerced me for sex!? When you tried to PIMP ME OUT!?”

Gueira scampers out of the way to allow Thyma to lord over Reus, bunched up like a worm with only his feeble pleas to save himself.

“ O-Okay, okay, I'll admit stealing was wrong , but you knew I had an issue with gambling, and everything else you agreed to! Remember Thyma, personal responsibility!”

His words seem to echo endlessly in her mind. Thyma doesn't answer, only staring down at the man that nearly ruined her life, unable to process the myriad of emotions swirling through her body.

“ C'mon Thyma, let's put this behind us, and start over.” Reus pleads, doing his best to put on a loving face.

“ What if I don't want to?” Her words were bereft of any emotion.

“ C'mon Thyma, don't be like that, you can't quit me, and I can't quit you. I know deep down, you've still got love for me.”

Silence stretches, a sudden wind whips clouds dust, and a coyote's howl punctuates and capitalizes actions that none of the men saw coming.

“ ...ate you...” Thyma whispers coldly.

“ Wh— _ AUGCH _ !!'' Before Reus could respond properly, Thyma's foot stomps his head. Once, twice, again, and again, and again, rapid-fire and relentless.

“ I hate you! I HATE YOU!! IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU!!!!” Years of bottled indignation, stress, and rage torrents out Thyma, with Meis and Gueira happily egging her on. She gave her ex one last kick, but it wasn't enough, her flames were not quelled, her rage not satiated, this man needed to hurt, just as she did.

She storms over to Miami, grabs the hitch, and attaches the Reus to it. Straddling the monstrous machine, she revs the engine, ignoring the panicked pleads of her ex. Miami charges like an angry bull, dragging the screaming man behind it.

“ THYMA! THYMA!! THYMA!!” The wild pair cheered and whooped, watching in chaotic gleeful pride as Thyma becomes a force to be reckoned with.

A few moments pass and Miami comes to a stop, Reus thoroughly battered, but alive. Thyma wobbly dismounts the ATV, her demeanor from earlier shifted, the fire suddenly gone from her spirit. Tentatively with jellied legs, she carefully steps towards Meis before finally crashing into his arms, her body trembling as she openly sobs into his slim chest. Like a carriage reverting back to a pumpkin, whatever spell was over Thyma had lifted, and what was left was a woman filled with more emotional havoc than before.

Meis could only wrap his arms around her, gently petting her soft mane. “Your alright Thyma, it's okay.”

More sobs tore through her throat, hot tears bubbled over ceaselessly. Anger, guilt, relief, all poured out of her. It was all over, at least she hoped that to be true, because as of now, it was difficult to feel like it was.

–

The three leave Reus behind, with water and his wallet, knowing the man could trek back to the city on foot, if he dared.

“ _ If I catch even a whiff of yer ass near Thyma, I will make certain the buzzards eat well that day.”Meis warns Reus, hopefully for the last time. _

They all returned to the club as the night was winding down. From the office Thyma explains her sudden absence, Lio sitting across from her listening to the events, with his usual calm demeanor, still, his disappointment and hurt was visible as it leaked through his steel facade.

  
  


“ ..I was scared that he'd might try and retaliate if you all tried to protect me. Still though, you winded getting involved anyway, I'm sorry.” Once Thyma had finished her story, Lio lets out a sigh and says...

“ I can't believe you'd rather skip town than let us help you.”

“ I'm sorry...”Her eyes don't meet his, but she hears him approach her and for the second time today she feels a pair of arms wrap around her.

“ I'm just glad you're safe, please don't do something like that again.”

“ ...Yes, Boss...” Her voice warbled and pitched, as she fought back more tears. She then feels a hand roughly pat her.

“ Yeah, 'specially since you've earned your Mad Burnish stripes!” Meis grins.

“ Huh?” Lio cocks his head.

“ You should've seen it Boss! She clipped the hitch to that bastard and dragged his ass 'cross the desert!” Gueira gestures with a wide smile. “So proud of ya Thyma!”

Lio gives Thyma a bewildered look, as she conveniently left out that part of the story. “You did what!? And I missed it!”

“ Don't worry I got it on video!” Meis sounds, holding up his phone, video playing.

Thyma sighs and painfully wincing at her past actions. “No, please...I just want to forget, okay?”

“ Fair enough.” Lio states while sending the video to his phone. “For now let's get you home.”

“ Can't, her place is trashed.” Meis explains putting his phone away.

“ Walls and windows busted. Like 'you're definitely not getting your safety deposit back' level of trashed. ”Gueira adds, leaving Thyma to heavily groan and drops her head onto Lio's desk with a resounding thud.

“ We'll put you up in a hotel for a while.” Lio suggested pulling out his phone.

“ Wait Boss--!”

“ It's just for the night, or until your apartment is fixed, unless you'd like to stay with us?” Lio places a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving Thyma time to think. However, the hour was late, she was tired, and desperately wanted time alone to decompress.

“ Fine.” She relents, silently vowing to pay Lio back.

Soon Thyma stood inside one of the nicest hotel in Promepolis, Gueira at her side, at the request of Lio and Meis to make sure she was taken care of while they handled some club business.

“ Damn, when the Boss hooks you up, he hooks you  _ up! _ ” Gueira marvels at the astounding lobby, the first few floors tiered with restaurants, spas, and other luxury establishments. The rising, grandiose architecture embellished with fine designs of modern and classical influences, welcoming the finest of the guests into their comforts.

Thyma curses Lio under her breath, as she makes her way to the check-in counter, he knew full well there was no way she could repay him without putting a dent in her bank.

With her key in hand, the pair make their way to the elevator.

“ Thanks for escorting me here.” Her voice quiet with exhaustion, looking through the glass windows while scenery below gets smaller. “And I'm sorry you had to see a more...unpleasant side of me. I'm not usually like that I just..”

“ 'Ey, don't sweat it. Sometimes people push you too hard, and that's what they get. Guys like your ex only back off, when you fight back. Besides he deserved it.”Gueira reassures giving her a smile, before looking back out to the rising view, “What I'd like to know is, why didn't you stay with Meis? I mean, he's your boyfriend, right?”

“ Actually, that's not true.”

“ Wait, what?” Gueira stares wildly, the elevator pings, opening its doors to the destined floors.

Once they reach the room, Thyma explains it all. “So, yeah, my plan backfired, even with a scary pretend boyfriend.”

Perched on the luxurious bed, she watches Gueira mentally kick himself on the couch. “So, to be clear, you're not dating Meis, like at all?”

“ Nope, it was all a ruse.” She yawns, finishing with a tired, devious smile. “You've still got a chance with Meis.”

Gueira sputters, “W-What makes you think I want Meis?”

“ Because you are painfully and obviously crushing super hard on him.” She shrugs.

“ Whatever, I'm leavin', night.” He pouts indignantly, rising from the couch, making his way out the door, ignoring the teasing smile Thyma gives him.

Once in the elevator, the reality of him turning down Meis' earlier invitation hits him with regret. “Goddamnit! I could've had a hot cowboy ridin' my dick!”

Before he could slam his head on the glass his phone pings with a message from Meis.

–

Lio and Meis arrive back at their apartment, the taller man more exhausted from the day's events. He stands under the boiling spray of water, washing away grime and dirt, but something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind. It persisted, even while dried and clothed himself. It was something important, but what?

“ Can't be that important if I can't remember.” He mutters, letting his head hit the pillow.

But suddenly he remembers.

Grabbing his phone, he sighs with relief seeing a message from Thyma checking in safely. Satisfied, he once again rests his head, letting sleep gently relax his body.

But it doesn't stay for long.

His eyes shoot open with realization, and he slaps his forehead, yelling out, “I forgot to fuck Gueira!”

With quick thinking, he grabs his phone to send out a message.

_ Meis: Hey thanks for having my back tonight. Request me for a private dance next time you're at the club _

_ so I can reward you ❤😉 _

\--

From the lobby of the hotel, the staff watches humorously as a fluffy-haired idiot dances with glee within the elevator , slowly descending to the ground floor.

–

The next night, Gueira sits at the bar of Promare eagerly waiting for one particular cowboy to grace the stage. Galo had arrived with him, but vanished after Lio's performance, and has yet to come back. Gueira had an idea of who Galo could be doing and will thoroughly tease him later for it, for now his attention was directed towards...

“ And now Promare presents the hottest thing under the Texas sun, our salacious and sexy ranch hand! Dallas!” Lucia's voice rang out, Meis strolling out, to the delight of the patrons of the club. His usual outfit was replaced with something more revealing than his usual attire. The usual hat, boots, bandanna, and gloves made their appearance, along with a cropped vest, clipped together to hide perky nipples strained underneath. Leather, assless chaps clung to his slender legs, framing lace panties with a heart-shaped opening around the crack of his pert ass.

His lips curl into a smile when he notices Gueira sitting at the bar, which was fine with him; they'd get up close and personal soon enough. He coils himself around the pole with ease and grace. The lyrics of the booming song sang of want and desire, Meis taking its cues to tantalize and tease. His hands run sensuously down his body, and he grinds along the pole. He drops his hips down low, parting his legs open as an invitation. Curling his finger with a come hither gesture, his hips sway to the beat as he rises to his feet, enchanting his audience, but knowingly tempting only one man. Despite money raining onto the stage, he never removed one article of clothing, no, only one pair of hands would do that tonight.

When Meis finishes his set, Gueira wasted no time heading to the private booth waiting for him. He downs a glass of the complimentary champagne, while waiting for the silk-haired cowboy to grace him. The minutes mount while excitement, and an aching need pumps through his veins. He peers over the glass watching the door creak open and Meis waltzing through encroaching upon his favorite patron.

“ Enjoy the show?” He hummed.

“ You know it.” The other stretches, spreading his legs, bulge apparent through his pants.

Meis shifts his gaze downward and then back up, with a knowing smile. “Glad to hear it, now tell me. How do you want me tonight?”

Gueira meets Meis' smile with equal expectation. “I was thinking I could have a lap dance, but I was hoping you'd make it  _ extra  _ special for me.”

“ An extra special lap dance, huh?” He leans in, lips ghosting over the other's ear. “I think I can arrange that.”

The music starts, playing something that could be easily ignored, but Meis could dance to. Soon Gueira had a clear view of Meis' plush and shapely ass, bouncing and rolling, just barely grazing Gueira's clothed cock.

The tanned man's breath hitches after a particular press to his dick. “Hey, I know house rules say don't touch unless you ask.”

“ You asking?” Coyness in his voice and eyes, arching his back to tilt his head to view the heated gaze targeted towards him, while rubbing his ass along the throbbing length. “Hmmm, since you've been so sweet ta’ me, touch where ever you like.”

And with that Gueira clasps his hands around those waiting cheeks, massaging and reveling in their pleasant touch, parting them to reveal a surprise waiting within the heat.

“ Whaddya got here?” He looped through the hole of a hidden buttplug and tugs, the sound of Meis' moan sent heat coursing through his body.

“ Didn't want ta’ keep ya wai— _ haah _ !” Bit by bit, Gueira eases the toy out of Meis, more luscious sounds dripping from his lips, until every inch of the sizable buttplug was free.

“ Damn, you were dancing with  _ this  _ in there,” He marvels, letting the toy plop onto the couch.

Lube dribbles from the blinking hole, inviting him to slip two fingers in wet heat. Slowly he thrusts in and out, scissoring, and searching for Meis' sweet spot. He finally strokes the sensitive bundle, making the dancer gasp as his knees buckle a bit.

Pulling away, the lankier man turns to face the other, a dangerous glint in his eye, cock straining against the thin fabric. “Arms on the back of the couch and spread 'em.”

Gueira did as he was told, opening himself for whatever Meis had planned. He watches the man drop to his knees, and take the zipper between his teeth.

“ Fuck that's hot.” Gueira watches in awe as Meis fishes out his cock, and begins planting kisses along the sides. Something felt familiar when Meis sank his mouth onto the thick member. His tongue swirls and laps, head bobbing at a tortuous rate.

“ Damnit Meis, quit teasin' me and get on with it,” He grits, to keep his arousal in check.

Meis releases the cock with a wet pop. “Impatient, hmmm?” He fishes a condom from his vest, tears it with his teeth, and places it on his tongue. Ruby eyes widen and wince as the warmth envelops his cock once more. Slowly Meis removes his mouth to reveal a wet, perfectly placed condom.

“ Can't have ya makin' a mess in me,” He purrs, straddling the waiting lap. Slowly he sinks himself onto the pulsing cock until fully sheathed. Gueira had more girth than length to him, causing the dancer to shudder at the pleasantly burning stretch.

He starts with a teasing pace and soon begins riding Gueira's dick in earnest, while watching the other man's face twist in pleasure. He too felt himself getting lost in the throng of sensations filling him to the brim.

“ _ Aah _ ! Yer cock feels amazin'!” He tilts the red-head chin, drinking in his flushed erotic face. “An' you look so cute n' sexy like that.”

Meis hips drop, making heady a moan pour from the other's lips mixing with wet rhythmically slapping. “Makin' cute sounds fer me too,” He coos. “You like that? You like how I ride ya?”

“ Fuck! Ride me! Ride me, cowboy!”

Needing no further prompting, Meis picks up the pace, enjoying every throb of Gueira's thick as he continues to whisper dirty praises. “God you look like a mess, all I'm doin' is ridin' ya.  _ Hngh _ ! So good, I wanna come from yer cock alone.”

Gueira's hands fly from the couch, one grips Meis' ass, and the other locks under his arm, latching onto his shoulder, giving him leverage to thrust into the dancer's hips. Now, Gueira was setting the brutal pace, driven by fervent lust and desire. He admires the gorgeous sight of Meis bouncing with every thrust, a sight he thought he thought was only bound to dreams was in front of him in all its glory, and was going to drink in every last drop. If Meis didn't wring his dick out first. Those climbing moans, coupled with Meis' squeezing him, drove close to the edge.

Gueira catches royal blue lips with his own, his balls tightening and cock throbbing, hips piston and grip strengthens. A sharp heat spiking throughout his body, pinpointing through his cock as he spills himself into the condom, moaning feeding Meis' mouth. He quickly starts jerking Meis' cock, panties drenched in precum.

Meis gasps, the climax mounting in his ass and cock, and he grips Gueira's shoulders, staccato moans pitching as he's pounded into. The heated coiled, and rose, and with one last pressing thumb over the tip of his cock, he came with a sharp shudder, come soaking through his panties.

His mind was blurred and nerves alight, riding through his orgasm, wondering vaguely, why did it feel this good?

Still coming down from his blissful peak, Gueira drags him down for another hot kiss, hands roaming and urgently trying to get him naked. Meis quivers at lips nipping and lapping on his sensitive skin.

“ More! More! Holy shit I need more!” The red-head pleads between kisses, lips never leaving skin.

Meis' back hits the couch, the other man pressed on top of him, fingers already plunged into him again. His back arches of the couch, voicing keening, until a familiar ping interrupts.

“ Damnit!  _ Aah _ ! Gueira.. _ mmph _ ..can't sta— _ ooh _ !” The dancer's words were cut short when a slick mouth sucks hard around his cock. He so badly wanted to stay and get railed until tomorrow, but not here.

He yanks the horny beast off of his cock and harshly twists his nose. “Calm down dammit!”

The pain gets Gueira snapped back to his senses. He realized they were still at the club and his time was up. “Noooo!” He nasally whines, pawing at Meis, “ 'M still horny.”

“ Trust me, the feelin' is pretty damn mutual, but I'm still on the clock.” He releases his grip and uprights himself.

“ Then clock out let's finish this.” Lips gravitate to the pale slender neck. “Somewhere else preferably, your place or mine?”

Meis weakly pushes off. “Can't, I got another client.”

“ Can't you just cancel?”

“ I could, but I can't.”

“ Why not?”

Meis tries to come up with an answer, and finds none. He could cancel, give out the refund, clock out, get boned, and come back to finish light manager work. Simple and way better than dancing for some random bastard.

“ Fuck it, you're right. Let's go back to my place, it's closer.”

–

They were all over each other before they even got in the door, desperate mouths and hands trying to find skin; it was a miracle they weren't naked before getting into Meis' room. Meis’ back hits the mattress, and clothes were peeled away to be scattered across the floor. Gueira takes his time to litter kisses all over Meis' bare skin, marveling at the marble pale body up close; it was like a dream.

“Holy hell, you're fucking beautiful.”

Ink hair splayed out, sapphire eyes lidded with desire. Slender body slowly becoming flush, chest heaving with anticipation, while his lengthy cock tinted rosy and drooling precum. God, where does he start?

“ Lube, gimme lube,” The red-head demands breathlessly, making motions with his hand.

A bottle of lube almost instantly finds its way into his hands and soon, slick fingers pry open Meis twitching hole. Slim fingers churn away, gently massaging his sweet spot, appreciative moans filling the room. Gueira fills his mouth with cock once more, rhythmically bobbing his head in time with his thrusting fingers.

Meis groans impatiently, keening with every hard press on his prostate. “Bastard... _ mmmph _ ...quit teasin' 'm already prepped.”

That rudeness only made the other slow his pace, and add another finger. Steadily, three fingers stirred away in his tight ass, hot tongue lovingly laving his pulsing cock, swirling and sucking along the tingling sensitive tip. Meis was in hell disguised as heaven, and it wasn't enough.

“ Please...”

“ Hmmm?”

“ Please, I n-need yer cock, p-please fuck me. Please b-be sweet ta’ me, Gueira.” Shuddering saccharine pleas could not be ignored, and the other obliges by pulling mouth away to line his thick cock.

“ Sorry babe, just wanted a little payback, didn't think you'd start begging for it.” A toothy grin spreads across his face.

Meis' retort is cut short by a moan, as he is flipped on his stomach and once more filled to the brim in one push. Gueira gathers and pins the other's wrists, while gripping his waist. The tanned-man fucks into him slow and steady until he finds the right angle and tempo that has the man beneath him crying out in ecstasy.

The muffled languid moans went straight to the girthy cock, causing him to pull out and receive an object groan. Tender kisses along his pale back are offered as an apology, and again he's filled. However, Gueira has discovered an awful game.

He finds the right pace and spot, slowly bringing Meis to the edge, and quickly pulls out to plant kisses laced with sweet praise. Building him only to tear him down in an erotic fashion, for what felt like hours. However, it was a double-edged sword; he felt his own feverish need thrumming on edge. Gueira holds back, slowly sinking into a valley, and starts anew reaching new tingling peaks, almost teetering over the edge with each cycle.

After a fourth time, Meis sobs and begs again into the mattress. Gueira flips him onto his back to hear him prettily beg again, but was met with a glorious sight. Meis' face heavily flushed to his neck along with dripping cock, his eyes swimming in lust.

“ Please, keep going. Please fuck me, I'm so close, please Gueira please, please, please.”

“ Shit.” With that, he folds the man beneath in half, fully sheathing himself to fuck him until he comes. “Fuck, you don't know what you do to me Meis... _ haaahn _ ...you like that? You like my cock fucking you?”

“ Y-yes! I love it! Love it! I love you! I love you Gueira! I love you!”

Gueira almost stops upon hearing those words, instead he captures those lips in a searing kiss, as if trying to taste those words he so longed to hear. Cock continued to ravish him, his climax building to its final crescendo.

“ I love you too Meis! I love you so much! God, I love you so damn much!”

“ Aaah! I love you Guiera! I love you!” His back arches and comes sputters from his cock. Meis was lost in sensuous bliss, his peak reaching a new height, more sharp and intense than earlier. Again he feels the consuming heat rise and coil, it holds and explodes, sending pleasant shocks, through his body, trembling legs and curling toes.

Meis' erotic confession rings in his ears, traveling to his pounding cock flowing into searing heat with more intensity than last. One more thrust pushes him over the edge, he grips the man beneath him in a vice, face firmly pressed into his neck, shuddering as come spills, fills, and overflows.

“ Meis...” He hisses, voice of full love, body enveloped with shared warmth.

Meis hears his name, but it sounds far away. He feels a little far away, orgasm trapping him in a wonderful fog. He's done it. He had sex with Gueira, twice. Yet, nothing felt resolved, he just felt happy, deliriously happy. Why? It was just sex, goddamned amazing sex, but nothing new. It felt good.

Too good.

Was it...love?

Was it really love?

Post-orgasm clarity, slapped him like a wet towel. Wait, that was a wet towel. Aqua eyes bleary meet with sheepish ruby eyes.

“ Sorry, dropped the towel.” Gueira apologizes, still holding the damp cloth and still naked. “Welcome back, got you all cleaned up.”

Before Meis could notice feeling less sweaty and sticky, the weight of his confession bares its full weight upon him, filling him with conflicting regret. Gueira gives him a gentle kiss and rests his forehead against his. “I love you, Meis.”

Hearing those words, with such sweet tenderness and adoration, it made something shatter and sink within Meis. He gently pushes the other man away, quietly asks him...

“ Could you leave?”

“ Huh?”

“ Leave, go home Gueira.”

Slowly the words settle, his brow knits and loving smile drops. “Wait, I don't—why?”

Meis doesn't look his way, but his voice becomes firmer and a little more annoyed. “Just leave alright.”

“ Not until you tell why. Did I do something wrong?”Aggravation overrides the anxious tone.

“ I-I just—augh...I can't explain it now, just leave!”

Gueira's eyes search for some semblance of a hint of what was wrong. “Meis, I--”

“ Are you deaf!? Move yer’ ass before I kick it!”

“ No! Tell me what's wrong first!”

In a huff Meis grabs the other man's clothes and starts shoving him out his room. Gueira puts up a fight, trying to stay firmly planted. The pair struggle until they make it into the middle of the living room, still naked.

“ DAMNIT MEIS! WHAT THE FUCK!?” He roars, roughly shoving Meis away. “You tell me you love me and now you're trying to throw me out!”

“ I don't know if I said it 'cause I meant it, or cause you were fucking my brains out!” The lankier man fires back, he lets out a sigh. “Hell, I'm sure it was the same for you.”

There was a long pause. The seconds ticked by leaving the air heavier and heavier.

Gueira finally responds, aggressive passion boiling over, trying to mask the hurt.“No...it wasn't. I meant it! I meant every last word! I love you, Meis!”

Again silence stretches, Meis staring down Gueira with an unreadable expression, until he sighs again. “Go home, Gueira.”

Coldly, Meis watches Guiera's face become pained and crestfallen, then the familiar rage rises. Meis fully expected to get punched, instead clothes are snatched from his hands. Gueira quickly puts on his pants, gathers his shoes and stomps out, the door rattling the entire apartment as it slammed.

There Meis stood, nude and full of rotting guilt. He flops onto the couch, hands resting on his face, unsure of what to do.

He hears the front door open and close, and footsteps approaching, but doesn't bother moving from the couch. His hands slide down his face, and sees Lio looming above him.

“ I see you decided to ditch work too.” He smiles humorlessly at the blonde, knowing they went to work together, and the club was nowhere near closed yet.

“ Is there a particular reason why Galo and I saw Gueira storming down the hall angry and shirtless?” Lio's eyebrows arch, voice full of concern surveying his friend's naked form.

Meis only blinks, and states plainly. “I broke his heart.”

–

Outside Gueira, stomps on his way to his ATV, after he manages to get himself fully clothed. Anger boiled in guts, or rather, he tried to use anger to mask the sickening heartbreak. He tightens his face, clamping his jaw, not wanting to shed a single tear over him. He was going to go home, polish off the tequila in his cabinet, deal with tomorrow however he saw fit, and never think of...

“ Gueira!”A familiar blue mohawk came bounding towards him.

Ah, that's right Galo disappeared after Lio's dance earlier. He strains his face to smile at his friend, “Well, look who's here. Got lost in Detroit, huh?”

The taller man looks perplexed for a moment before, responding a little awkwardly, “Heh, yeah, I guess I kinda did.”

He fights to keep a casual demeanor. He crosses his arms, arching a brow, “Kinda? You must've lost track of time, cause you were gone for hours.”

“ Y-Yeah, I guess I did.” Galo looked hurt, no that wasn't hurt. It was pity.

Irritation seeped through this facade, cracking the carefully placed mask.“Hey, what's with that look? What? Detroit didn't show you a good time?”

Galo says nothing, but only pisses him off more.

“ What did he dump ya?” He huffs out an empty laugh, he can feel the dam breaking.

Again nothing, just that annoying look of pity.

“ Quit lookin' at me like that!” He barks out. “It's pissin' me off!”

“ What did Meis do to you?!” Galo blurts out angrily.

Gueira stands in shock for a moment, before scowling again, mumbling “Nothing.”

“ Bull! I saw you stomping out their apartment half-naked and angry!”

“ FUCK OFF!! I don't owe you an explanation!” And apparently, neither does Meis. Even though they went through a lot together in a short time. Even though they got to know each other, almost pretty deeply. They laughed together, got through rough patches, and saw each other in vulnerable moments, somehow it wasn't enough.

He let his heart ruin a friendship, and now he can't go back, yet he can't stand the thought of not having Meis in life.

He loves Meis, but he can't have him, or rather, Meis won't let him.

Tears stung his eyes, and flowed like a river. Anger rises, but rather than override his heartbreak, it just mixes.

“ FUCK!” He sobbed, squatting down, tucking face in his knees. The tears don't stop, and neither does the maelstrom of emotions. He senses Galo squatting next to him,;he wishes he'd leave, but deeply wants him to stay.

“ You're a piece of shit, Meis!” He bawls, hating that through all this emotional turmoil, that his feelings for Meis have not changed.

-

The next night, Gueira doesn't show up at the club, not the next night, or the night after that. A full week passes without Meis seeing or hearing from Gueira, the guilt growing by the day. Even with their time apart, Meis is still no closer to figuring out his tangled feelings. It can't be love; if he loved Gueira he wouldn't kick him out after sex, and then not call him for a week. No, that's not right. He did want to apologize, and make things right, but not with the lingering doubt about his feelings. Or rather...

“ Meis, Boss, could you two look at this security footage.” Thyma's voice cuts through his mental fog. Grateful for the distraction, he peers over to her tablet screen. Footage of one the private booth begins to play, the camera sits high in the corner of the booth, from below a man strolls in through the door, a man with a familiar mop of red hair.

Uh-oh.

It didn't take long for Meis to make his appearance and not long after that, he was riding Gueira. The video pauses, and Thyma has a very expectant look on her face.

“ Sorry Thyma,” Meis apologizes, face sullen, “Things got a little hot an' heavy, it won't happen again.”

Thyma of course noticed the uncharacteristic demeanor, but decides to not to pursue it. She had been gone for a few days, and noticed Meis' sudden change, she could guess it had something to do with Gueira. For now, she switches tabs to another video, this time featuring Galo and Lio. Lio balks as he watches himself shamelessly get reamed by Galo.

Thyma offers a flat expression to a stoned faced blushing Lio. “Boss, care to explain.”

Lio pouts a bit. “It's my club.”

“ And your rule was and I quote: 'Explicit sexual relations with patrons are forbidden within and on Promare's property.”

Well, there was no arguing that. “You're right, we shouldn’t let our loins get the better of us.”

“ I'm glad you two agree.” Thyma glances at the clock, “Well it's opening time soon, I'll finish up here.”

The men silently nod, leaving to get ready for the night. They walk side by side down the hall, their shoes echoing click on the linoleum. Lio peers up to see his Meis' practiced stoic expression, but behind it, he knows the man fighting against a sea of emotions.

“ When you get a chance to, you should talk to him.” He offers quietly. “Galo says he calmed down a bit since then.”

“ I'll...think about it.”

With no other words, they enter the dressing room.

The night carries on, with no sign of Gueira, but Galo was there at the bar. Meis had noticed through the week Galo didn't offer as much of his bright personality towards him. Which consisted of Galo, greeting him, saying a few sentences to him, and then not talking to him the rest of the night.

So, it was official.

Meis fucked so bad, that even goody-two-shoes Galo won't talk to him.

He needed to fix this, but his feelings still weren't sorted out, or rather he didn't want to confront them.

“ Ugh, I don't have time for that.” He scolds himself quietly, right now he was standing in front of the door of a private booth, ready to straddle the lap of some random bastard.

He steps through the door, Southern charm turned up, but he was surprised to see not a man, but woman, a beautiful one at that. Her dark hair was covered by a hat, and she wore tinted glasses, not surprising, some female patrons were a little embarrassed about being at a strip club.

“ Howdy darlin', I don't see purdy gals like you too often. Names Dallas.” Meis purrs, swaggering over to the lady.

The lady sat poised, legs crossed, hands perched on her knee, she glanced over to Meis. “Well Dallas, I am rather new here, and a friend recommended me to this place, and I thought I would try it out.” Her tone was polite, stiff even, or rather, too professional.

Meis figured she was a little nervous, although he wondered how this gorgeous lady ever had trouble talking to men. Still, somehow Meis couldn't shake the feeling he's seen her before.

“ Welcome to Promare hon, y'all should know yer in good hand with ol' Dallas.” He slides next to her, giving a sly grin.

“ Oh, is that so?” She gives a tittering laugh, her voice dips into a coy tone. “Can those hands give me a hands-on riding lesson?”

Meis raises a brow, her sudden boldness caught him off-guard a bit. He decides to lean in with it; might as well have fun, no harm in that.

He leans in with a sultry tone, “Well, if y'all sweet, I'd be more than happy to show you how to ride a horse.”

“ I see,” She purred back. “Then show me.”

Before Meis could move a thud pounded at the door, it blasted open and two large men flank either side of him. The woman sits poised as ever completely unbothered by the intrusion. One of the men grabs a hold of Meis, he struggles and wrestles, but stops suddenly when he notices the screaming coming from within the club.

“ IT'S A RAID!!” Lucia's voice cries out in warning.

“ THIS IS PROMEPOLIS POLICE DEPARTMENT!!” Vulcan's voice boom with glee.

“ I'm not terribly sure why we had to get him involved, but ah well.” The woman stands, her hat along with her 'hair' slips to the floor, revealing a distinct purple hairstyle.

Meis knew he recognized her; it was Biar Colossus, Kray's secretary and right-hand woman. He fiercely scowls at her. “You conniving bitch!”

Before he could say anymore, he was covered in a sack, and hauled away. The cool air hits Meis' bare skin, alerting him he was outside. Something was off about this: If this was a police sting, then why was he being stolen in a sack?

But then again Biar was involved, so that would mean Kray was too.

The pieces start to come together and Meis makes a chilling realization. He’s in danger and so is Lio, Thyma too, probably. He wastes no time putting up more of a fight. He wriggles and writhes, blindly kicking until he nails one of the men. They drop him, and Meis hits the ground running.

He notices that he's at the back of the club, his bike is just across the street and he keeps a hidden spare key on the wheel's spoke. If he can just make it down the alley, he'll be home free, and he'll lay low until he hears word from Lio or draws up his own plan. He ducks into the alley, legs carrying as fast they can. Two more men appear at the end of the alley, but that doesn't stop Meis; he charges full speed ahead. The men ready themselves for anything, except Meis sliding between their legs, giving them the slip.

However, his slide stops him dead in the middle of the street, and a car's headlights close in on him. Meis jumps back onto the sidewalk, avoiding the car, but ends right back into the clutches of his captors, who bags him yet again, and tosses him into a car trunk. A sinking dread weighs on his body as the car pulls away from the club.

Meis quietly rides for feels like hours, coming up with every strategy he could think of. After some time the car comes to a halt, and he carefully listens to the car doors open and slam, to footsteps moving toward the trunk. It creaks open and something solid presses against his body, it didn't take him long to figure out it was a gun.

“ Listen up!” One of the men spoke. “Don't try anything. You try, you die. It's as simple as that. We don't  _ have _ to keep you alive.”

Well, there goes several of Meis' plans down the toilet. He sucks in his teeth and lets himself get hauled off to God-knows-where. He tries to listen for some hint as to where he is, but it's quiet as the footsteps echo through the empty space. The loud, rhythmic clicking echoes suddenly; it sounded like a garage door. He didn't have time to process it, because he was immediately thrown into somewhere. The cloth offered little cushion as he hit the cold concrete. He struggles out of the bag in time to see the rolling door slam down and lock.

He takes in his surroundings: Three, cold, blank gray walls, a vent from the ceiling blowing in icy air;A small window the width of a small self, filters in natural light, and the garage door, with a small window, too small for him to try and squeeze out of. Peering out of the door window, Meis could barely make out the outside. He saw more garage doors, rows of them actually.

“ A storage area...?” There was no doubt it was a self-storage facility, an old abandoned one at that, judging just by the cobwebs and thick layer of dust.

He tries to keep himself calm, and weighs out his options. He has no phone on him, he is still in his cowboy get up, but he did keep a knife in his boot, just in case. However, none of that was going to do him any good. He was alone, and no one knew where was, hell even he didn't know where he was, and the most haunting part was that he could die here, slowly and painfully by starvation and dehydration.

That reality gave rise to a compelling anxiousness rising through his gut. He has to escape. He lunges at the door, slamming his thin body against it. Over and over, the door thuds and rattles, but never gives. He kicks it, rams against some more, screaming until his throat was raw. Strong thuds, reverberated for hours, getting quieter and quieter, until Meis sinks to the ground, cold and exhausted.

He wraps himself in the sack and curls up in a corner.

He drifts off to sleep, hoping this was all a hellish nightmare.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day! ৻( ◉ ⋏<)／~～❤ ♡
> 
> Hey guys here's my twitter: @Kirukirukirurin (18+ only). You're welcome to scream at me about my fic there. Other folks sure have.

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end, thanks so much. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are appreciated. If you want to leave an extra kudo just go 'Kudo +1' in the comments. The next chapter is on the way.


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